p  hift 


MELVILI/S    LECTURES. 


MAH    4     iaj.. 


LECTURES  X^nHLtt^ 


a 


PRACTICAL     SUBJECTS, 


DELIVERED   AT 


t,  Uarpnt's,  !f  atjjhux- 


BT   THE 

y 
REV.   HENRY   MELVILL,   B.  D., 

PRINCIPAL  OF  THE   EAST   INDIA   COLLEGE,    AND   CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  TOWER  OP  LONDON;   AUTHOR  OS 

SERMONS  PREACHED   BEFORE   THE   UNIVERSITY   OP   CAMBRIDGE  AND   ST.    MARY'S  CHURCH; 

SERMONS   ON   CERTAIN   OP  THE   LESS    PROMINENT   FACTS   AND   REFERENCES 

LN  SACRED   STORY,    PREACHED   ON   PUBLIC   OCCASIONS  5 

ETC.,   ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK : 
STANFORD  &  DELISSER, 

CHURCH  PUBLISHING  HOUSE, 


637  BBOADWA.Y 

1858. 


CONTENTS, 


LECTURE  I. 

THE    RETURN    OF    THE    DISPOSSESSED    SPIRIT. 

Matt.  xii.  43-45.  paoh 

"  When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh  through  dry  places, 
seeking  rest,  and  findeth  none.  Then  he  saith,  I  will  return  into  my  house  from 
■whence  I  came  out;  and  when  he  is  come,  he  findeth  it  empty,  swept,  and 
garnished.  Then  goeth  he,  and  taketh  with  himself  seven  other  spirits  more  wicked 
than  himself,  and  they  enter  in  and  dwell  there :  and  the  last  state  of  that  man 
is  worse  than  the  first.     Even  so  shall  it  be  also  unto  this  wicked  generation." 11 

LECTURE  II. 

HONEY    FROM    THE    ROCK. 

Deut.  xxxii.  13. 
"  He  made  him  ride  on  the  high  places  of  the  earth,  that  he  might  eat  the  increase  of 
the  fields ;  and  he  made  him  to  suck  honey  out  of  the  rock,  and  oil  out  of  the  flinty 
rock." 30 

LECTURE  III. 

EASTER. 

1  Peter  i.  3. 
"  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  according  to  his  abun- 
dant mercy  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead." 48 


C  C0NT1  NTS. 

LBCTUEE   IV. 

THI    WTTNE88    IN 

1  JOBH  I  PAOB 

-  Hi  that  believe'.'  I  tod  hath  the  witness  in  himself." 69 

LECTURE    V. 

T  11  I      4P0  I'  I.  V  P   11  A. 
IKK  L  21. 

HMD  "f  <i'"l  ipake  a-  thev  Were  tDOTed   by  the  Holy  (ill..-!.- •'•  ' 

LECTURE   VI. 

A    MAN    A    BIOIKG-PLACX. 

[g  \.  m 
■And  ::""i  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tern- 

of  wafa  i  in  a  'li_.  '■■*■  >lia'l"\\  ■  BIJ 

land" 109 

LECTURE     VII. 

UIK     III    V 

M  -"■'. 

"An:  that   liath  for~ak.ii  booses,  or  brethren,  >>r  oaten,  or  lathei 

•  children,  or  lands,  for  i                                                an  hun- 
md  shall  inbi  ISA 

LECTURE    VIII. 

thk    nit;   MORE    in  \s    m 
M  \ 

1 4  B 

LECTURE   IX. 

lIAh'8    VI- 

9    1 1. 

I    tb  blinded 

th<  i- 

oor  ■  •  ■  them.    11. 

Him." 


CONTENTS. 


LECTUEE   X. 


ST.    JOHN   THE    BAPTIST. 


Numb.  xi.  29.  pagb 

:  And  Moses  said  unto  him,  Enviest  thou  for  my  sake  ?  would  God  that  all  the  Lord's 
people  were  prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his  spirit  upon  them !" 187 


LECTURE  XI. 

BUILDING   THE    TOMBS    OF    THE    PROPHETS. 

Luke  xi.  47,  48. 
'  "Woe  unto  you  !  for  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  Prophets,  and  your  fathers  killed 
them.     Truly  ye  bear  witness  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of  your  fathers ;  for  they 
indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build  their  sepulchres." 207 

LECTUEE  XII. 

MANIFESTATION    OF    THE    SONS    OF    GOD. 

Rom.  viiL  19. 
1  For  the  earnest  expectation  of  the  creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons 
of  God." 227 


LECTUEE  XIII. 

st.  Paul's  determination. 

1  Cor.  ii.  2. 
"For  I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and 
Him  crucified." 2445 

LECTUEE  XIV. 

THE    SONO    OF    MOSES    AND    THE    IAMB. 

Rev.  xv.  3. 
"  And  they  sing  the  song  of  Moses  the  servant  of  God,  and  the  song  of  the  Lamb, 
saying,  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ;  just  and  tine 
are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  Saints." 266 


s 

Ti   RE   XV. 

TIIK    DIVD 

•J    I'm  u   in.  9.  PAQl 

•  s ;  but  is 
;.ll  phould 
286 

LE0T1  BE   XVI. 

BOWING     TIM.     BUD, 

Map.k  iv.  21 
"And  He  said,   -  u  it"  a  man  should  cast  seed  into  the 

;  i       i  and  day,  ami  tin-  Beed  should  spring 

up.  be  ki  For  the  earth  1         'h  forth  fruit  of  her- 

self;  '    t  the  full  com  in  (he  ear     But  « 

the  frail  is  brought  forth,  immediately  be  putteth  in  6  har- 

805 

LECTURE   XVII. 

T  B  B     G  i:  i:  \  t    M  D  I.T  n  I 

I.'i  v.   vii.  9. 
1.1,  and,  1  altitude,  which  do  man  could  number,  of  all 

in  1  kindred,  and  tongues,  stood  before  Hie  tlirone,  and  l- 
d  with  whit  their  handa" 824 

OTUKE  XV11I. 

Til 

"  An'!  Lord, 

nto  bar, 
Thi  I  844 

OTURE   XIX. 

faith, 
and  that  w 


CONTENTS.  9 

LECTUBE  XX. 

SPIRITUAL     DECLINE. 

GdlATUNS   V.    1.  PA8B 

Ye  did  van  well    who  did  binder  you  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  f  . . .        .  382 


LECTURE  I. 


€§t  lUturit  nf  tjjc  U^mmil  Sprit. 


Matt.  xii.  43-45. 


"  When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh  through  dry  places,  seek- 
ing rest,  and  findeth  none.  Then  he  saith,  I  will  return  into  my  house  from  whence 
I  came  out;  and  when  he  is  come,  he  findeth  it  empty,  swept,  and  garnished. 
Then  goeth  he,  and  taketh  with  himself  seven  other  spirits  more  wicked  than  him- 
self, aud  they  enter  in  and  dwell  there :  and  the  last  state  of  that  man  is  worse 
than  the  first.     Even  so  shall  it  be  also  unto  this  wicked  generation." 

This  parable  lias  been  before  read  to  you  in  the  second 
lesson  of  this  morning's  service.  Its  drift  is  much  less  evi- 
dent than  that  of  many  of  our  Lord's  parables ;  you  may 
have  often  read  it  without  attaching  to  it  any  definite 
meaning,  or  extracting  from  it  any  practical  lesson.  We 
think  it  well,  therefore,  to  devote  a  sermon  to  its  illustra- 
tion. The  words  with  which  our  Lord  concludes,  "  Even 
so  shall  it  be  also  unto  this  wicked  generation,"  sufficiently 
show  that  the  parable  had  a  special  reference  to  the  Jewish 
people.  But  before  considering  it  under  this  point  of  view, 
we  should  like,  by  a  few  general  remarks,  to  guide  you  in 
applying  the  parable  to  yourselves.  If  you  are  observers. 
even  the  most  cursory,  of  character,  you  must  be  aware 
that  there  is  in  every  man  a  ruling  passion,  a  master-dispo- 
sition.    Each  individual  amongst  us  is  tempted  by  nature 


12  tin:  RETURN  OF  I  EOT. 

•me  one  kind  of  sin,  which,  accordi 
:        '  >n.  is  "the  -in  which  most  easily  besets  him."     And 
the  greal  difficulty  which  religion  has,  is  in  the  grappling 

with  the  master-passion,  in  il vercoming  the  1 

sin,  whether  it   '•  i  of  the  flesh,  or  a  Bin  of  the  inn-l- 

it' an  individual  be  a  real  Bubj<  .  having 

been  truly  convert*  7  master-principle  has  been  in- 

troduced into  his  heari  —the  love  of  God  being  mosl  si 
lv  his  ruling  l,  whatever  the  affection  to  which  he 

had  beforetime  been  captive.  Bu1  though  there  is  the  in- 
troduction of  this  new  master-principle,  we  cannol  say  that 
there  is  a  thorough  i  outoftheold.     We  do  not,  of 

course,   mean    thai    there    will   be   two  master-princi 
There  cannol   be  two  things  which  are  both 
their  kind.     Butwhilst  tin-  love  of  God  is  the  master-prin- 
ciple, what  had  formerly  been  the  master-principle  remains 
within,  in  a  subdued,  though  not  in  a  dominant,  ;  and 

the  great  warfare  of  the  Christian's  life  will  result  from 
the  efforts  of  this  principle  to  regain  the  pendancy. 

It'  the  voluptuous  Mian  be  converted,  his  hardesl  afte] 
will  lie  in  resisting  the  lusts  of  the  flesh;  whilst  the  proud 
man.  or  the  envious,  will  find  his  main  battle  musl  be  \\  aged 
with  pride  or  with  envy.  The  weak  point  before  conver- 
sion will  be  the  weak  point  .■•''■  And  the  devil,  who 
had  an  the  man,  and  who  knows 

therefore  the  quarter  in  which  he  is  most  assailable,  will 
direct  his  temptatio  i  the  vulnerable  point,  i 

to  make  a   breach  where  there  had   beforetime  been   the 

idest  highway. 

-  .  that  tin-  besetting  sin, whatsoever  n  1"',  must, to  the 
end  of  our  daj  s,  ■  >ccupy  oi  nd  praj  ei  ful- 


I.]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  13 

ness.  For  we  may  take  it  as  an  ascertained  fact,  that,  if 
we  fall  again  under  the  dominion  of  evil,  it  will  be  through 
the  re-entrance  of  that  unclean  spirit,  which  went  out  from 
its  mastership,  when  we  first  knew  Christ,  and  which,  ever 
on  the  alert  to  recover  its  empire,  will  take  advantage  of 
our  leaving  the  ground  a  moment  undefended,  to  rush  to 
its  lost  throne  with  a  kind  of  sevenfold  energy.  In  this 
way,  the  parable  before  us  admits  of  a  striking  application 
to  every  renewed  man.  Conversion  is  virtually  the  casting 
out  of  a  dominant  passion,  and  the  yielding  up  the  soul  to 
a  new  master-principle.  But  it  often  happens  that  men 
relax  from  their  first  strenuousness ;  and  then  the  chamber, 
which  was  swept  and  garnished  at  the  entrance  of  the  new 
principle,  becomes,  in  a  certain  sense,  empty  and  untenant- 
ed. And  thus  there  may  be  said  to  be  given  an  invitation 
to  the  old  ruling-passion,  the  unclean  spirit,  which  the 
Divine  word  had  cast  out,  but  which  has  never  ceased  to 
hover  round  its  original  dwelling-place.  And  there  being, 
as  it  were,  an  unoccupied  house,  and  an  unguarded  avenue, 
this  unclean  spirit  will  hurry  to  take  possession.  And  for- 
asmuch as  none  sin  with  a  greater  vehemence  than  those 
who  yield  again  to  a  renounced  passion,  or  an  abjured  lust, 
there  will  be,  for  the  time,  such  an  energy  of  tyranny  in 
the  reinstated  demon,  that  he  shall  seem  to  have  associated 
with  himself  seven  others,  of  greater  strength  and  more 
desperate  wickedness. 

We  want  to  make  you  aware  of  this,  before  we  advance 
to  the  fuller  explanation  and  application  of  the  parable. 
Depend  on  it,  the  chief  danger  to  the  Christian  is  from 
the  old  master-passion,  the  sin  which  was  his  besetting  sin 
before  his  conversion.     He  is  far  more  likely  to  fall  into 


14  THE  RETURN  or  [LECR 

that,  than  into  any  other  form  of  evil  We  adhere  to  the 
delineation  of  the  parable:  we  tell  everyone  of  yon,  in 
whom,  through  the  operations  of  grace,  the  love  of  God 
has  become  tin-  rnling  principle,  that  the  unclean  Bpirit, 
which  went  ont  from  dominion,  when  the  H0I3  Ghosl  en- 

■  I  and  claimed  Qty  for  God,  is  watching  night 

and  day  to  gain  entrance  into  the  mansion  from  which  lie 
was  expelled— ay,  and  that  if  yon   yield  to  the  unclean 

spirit,  t! Id  master-passion,  it  will  be  far  worse  for  yon 

than  if  yon  had  been  overcome  byany  other  form  of  evil: 
it  will  be  Eke  taking  back  a  habit,  or  moving  back  into  a 
plague-stricken  dwelling;  and  with  so  awful  a  despotism 
will   the   re-admitted  Bpiril  on  every  power  of  the 

mind,  and  every  member  of  the  body,  thai  the  appearance 
shall  be  as  though  he  had  ransacked  the  hosts  of  fallen 
angels,  and  selected  seven  of  the  mightiesl  from  thai  terri- 
ble company,  to  aid  liim  in  retaining  dominion,  and  anni- 
hilating immortality. 

I'.ut  we  now  turn  toother  and  more  complete  illustra- 
tions of  the  parable.  We  may  premise  thai  "the  Beven 
spirit-."  which  the  unclean  Bpiril  is  said  to  have  as 
with  himself,  maybe  considered  as  denoting  only  one  very 
powerful  spirit,  or  as  figuring  the  mightier  energy  with 
which  this  one  unclean  Bpiril  comes  back  equipped. 
all  know  thai  the  numl  en"  ia  nol  used  in  Scripture 

;i-  five  ma\  be,  or  -i\.  t<»  mark  precisely  an  amount.  It  i- 
rather  :i  mystical  number,  applied  whenever  perfection  of 
completeness  ia  to  be  considers  In  the  Book 

of  Revelation,  the  H0I3  Ghosl  i-  undoubtedly  described  a- 
'•tin-  Beven  Bpirits  "f  God.11     "Grace   be   nut"    you,  and 
e  from   Him  which  i-,  ami  which  was,  and  which  is  to 


I.]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  15 

corne,  and  from  the  seven  spirits  which  are  before  his 
throne,  and  from  Jesus  Christ."  Hence  we  are  not  re- 
quired, in  expounding  the  parable  before  us,  to  produce  a 
catalogue  of  seven  evil  spirits,  associated  with  the  cast-out 
one  when  restored :  seven  spirits  is  but  a  scriptural  expres- 
sion for  one  spirit  of  the  very  mightiest  order ;  and  may 
only  denote  that  the  master  evil-passion,  if  allowed  to  return, 
will  return  with  all  its  energies  awfully  strengthened  by 
absence.  This  having  been  premised,  we  will  now  en- 
deavour to  show  you  the  meaning  of  the  parable  as  applied 
to  the  Jews ;  for,  as  we  have  before  said,  the  words  of  our 
Lord,  "  Even  so  shall  it  be  also  unto  this  wicked  genera- 
tion," fasten  it  especially  on  that  disobedient  people. 

Now  Judaea  had  long  been  a  well-watered  land,  whilst 
the  phrase  "  dry  places"  described  accurately  every  other 
district  of  the  globe,  considered  in  respect  of  its  spiritual 
advantages.  Though  God  had  never  left  Himself  without 
witness,  even  in  the  darkest  times,  and  among  the  most 
barbarous  tribes,  the  Gentile  world  was  one  vast  moral 
desert,  the  refreshing  showers  of  Revelation  having  been 
confined  to  one  solitary  people.  But  Judaea,  thus  favoured 
and  fertilized,  yielded  no  fruit  in  return  for  its  privileges : 
a  barrenness,  general  as  that  which  marked  the  unwatered 
fields,  deformed  those  which  had  the  dew  and  the  rain. 
Such  was  the  condition  of  the  human  race,  when  the  ful- 
ness of  time  came,  and  the  long-promised  Redeemer  was 
born  of  a  woman.  The  watered  places,  which  were  the 
Jewish  people,  yielded  no  harvest  to  the  great  proprietor 
of  the  soil ;  whilst  the  "  dry  places,"  which  were  the  Gen- 
tile world,  sent  not  up  even  that  scanty  produce,  for  which 
traditional  religion,  and  the   constant   manifestations   of 


16  THE  RETURN  Off  [Lect. 

Godhead  which  the  universe,  threw  into  the  ground 

sufficiency  of  moisture.     Tin-  whole  world,  in  fact,  if 
:        \ary  the  image,  was  lying   under   the   dominion  of 
Satan;  ami  this  apostate  leader,  as  the  predj 
drew  ni'j-li.  when  the  Beed  of  tin*  unman  Bhonld  bruise  his 
head,  touched  the  top  point  of  sovereignty,  and  held  the 
globe,  with  all  its  millions,  in  the  foulest  of  vassal 

And  when  Christ  with  his   disciples  moved  through 
Judaea,  proclaiming  truths  which  had  long  been  hidden 

mankind,  and  ejecting  the  Bpiritswhich  had  seized  on 
men's  bodies,  there  was  an  assault,  such  as  had  never  before 

witnessed,  on  the  empire  of  darkness;  and  the  likeli- 
hood ]im-t  have  appeared  great,  even  to  evil  angels  them- 
selves, that,  bo  far  a1  leasl  as  Judaea  was  concerned,  there 
would  be  an  overthrow  the  most  complete  of  the  long 
dured  despotism.  And  here  comes  in  the  representation 
of  our  parable.  Disturbed  bythe  preaching  and  the  mira- 
cles of  Jesus,  the  unclean  spirits,  who  had  tyrannized  over 
the  souls  and  bodies  of  the  Jews,  abandoned  partially 
Judaea,  and  soughl  to  establish  themselves  in  the  dry  places 
of  the  Gentiles.  We  are,  of  course,  profoundly  ignorant 
of  machinations  and  movement-  in  the  world  of  Bpirits, 
ami  cannot  therefore  pretend  to  ascertain,  excepl  from  the 
simple  statemenl  of  the  parable,  this  departure  of  the 
•  of  evil  from  amongst  the  Jews,  and  their  atten  |  ' 
domestication  in  the  dry  p  I  Bui  we 

and  ;\\»>\r  the  discomfiture  of  Satan  to  the 
t  of  evil  Bpirits  from  men's  bodies, there  was  made 
for  the  time  a  mighty  impression  on  a  greal   bod)  of  the 
•  1  liat  there  were  moments  when  Jesus  stood  within 
a  hair-breadth  of  being  acknowledged  rist.     There- 


I.]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  17 

fore,  morally  as  well  as  physically,  there  was  a  wide  shak- 
ing of  the  empire  of  Satan  ;  and  we  can  quite  understand, 
from  the  known  condition  of  the  Jews,  that  the  effect  of 
the  ministrations  of  -Christ  and  his  Apostles  had  been  the 
partial  expulsion  of  unclean  spirits  from  the  land,  and  the 
consequent  affording  of  a  kind  of  breathing-time  to  the 
nation,  that  they  might  be  free  to  receive  or  reject  their 
deliverer. 

And  we  learn,  on  the  authority  of  the  parable,  that  the 
spirits,  thus  disturbed  and  cast  out,  craved  a  new  home, 
like  those  who  asked  leave  to  enter  into  the  swine,  and 
sought  that  rest  amongst  the  Gentiles  which  they  had  had 
amongst  the  Jews.  They  walked  through  "  dry  places," 
seeking  rest,  but  found  it  not.  They  were  quickly  pursued 
into  the  plains  of  heathenism  by  the  emissaries  of  Chris- 
tianity. There  elapsed  but  a  little  time  after  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  Ascension  of  Christ,  before  the  first  preachers  of 
Christianity  went  forth  to  the  assault  of  the  idolatry  and 
ignorance  of  a  long-benighted  world.  They  gave  no  quar- 
ter to  the  spirits  of  evil.  Denouncing  fearlessly  every 
abomination,  though  all  that  was  ancestral  sanctioned  and 
hallowed  its  mysteries,  and  prejudice  and  interest  conspired 
to  uphold  them,  these  champions  of  truth  would  be  content 
with  nothing  but  the  casting  down  of  temples  at  whose  al- 
tars unclean  spirits  presided,  and  the  rooting  up  of  groves, 
from  whose  recesses  they  breathed  out  their  oracles.  And 
though  there  was  not  an  immediate  demolition  of  the  huge 
fabric  of  superstition,  a  success  so  marked  attended  this 
bold  crusade  against  error,  that  multitudes  in  every  land 
threw  away  their  idols,  and  a  contempt  for  false  gods  be- 
came visible  even  amongst  those  who  still  refused  to  ac- 


18  Tin:  RETURN  OF  II  I  T 

knowledge  the  true.  And  thus  there  was  no  rest  in  the 
dry  places  for  the  unclean  -pint-.  There  was  a  general 
onsettlement  in  men's  minds.  Thousand  renounced  the 
falsehoods  of  heathenism,  whilst  those  who  adhered  to 
tin -in  were  dissatisfied  with  the  system.  So  that  the  <  l«-i  mms 
fell  thai  they  had  no  longer  a  firm  hold  on  the  Pagan  pop- 
ulation. There  were  clear  indication-;  of  a  far-spreading 
revolution,  which,  though  it  might  be  delayed  for  a  time, 
would  finally  substitute  Christianity  for  heathenism.  And 
therefore  the  unclean  Bpirits,  whom  the  preaching  and 
miracles  of  Jesus  had  driven  from  Judaea,  were  uow  driven 
from  the  <\ry  places  of  the  Gentiles  by  the  preaching  and 
miracles  of  the  Apostles.  Wnitherthen  -hall  thej  resort  \ 
The  parable  represents  them  as  determining  to  return  to 
their  houses  whence  theycame  out.  They  calculated  that, 
possibly,  they  might  again  find  that  rest  amongst  the  Jews, 
which  they  had  sought  in  vain  amongst  the  Gentiles.  They 
hurried  back,  therefore,  to  examine  their  former  dwelling; 
and  they  found  it  "empty,  Bwept,  and  garnished." 

The  Jews  had  indeed  crucified  their  Lord:  but  never- 
theless  the  door  of  mere}  was  no1  yel  closed:  the  procla- 
mations of  pardon  were  circulating  through  their  land; 
and  He,  whom  they  had  slain,  "exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and 
a  Saviour,"  still  offered^  if  they  would  acknowledge  their 
wickedness,  to  shelter  them  from  destruction.  There  had 
been,  however,  no  genera]  acceptance  of  the  proffer;  and 
the  bod}  of  the  people,  who  had  been  "swept,"  as  it  were. 
by  awful  warning  and  pathetic  entreaty,  and  "garnished" 
with  mercies  which  proved  eloquently  the  long-suffering  of 
refused  to  admit  the  Redeemer  into  their  hearts,  and 
thus  si 1  "  empty,"  unoccupied,  and  ready  to  receive  I 


I-] 


THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  19 


the  ejected  spirits  of  evil.  And  then  came  the  final  casting- 
off  of  the  nation.  The  last  and  crowning  attestation  to 
the  mission  of  Christ  had  wrought  no  conviction.  The 
Spirit  had  been  poured  out,  communicating  to  the  preach- 
ers of  the  faith  the  most  extraordinary  powers,  and  thus 
witnessing,  as  it  would  have  seemed,  with  irresistible  force, 
to  the  truth  of  the  proclaimed  doctrines  and  facts.  But 
the  people  resisted  this  testimony,  with  the  same  obstinacy 
with  which  they  had  resisted  every  other,  and  thus  com- 
mitted the  unpardonable  sin — unpardonable,  not  because 
any  sin  can  literally  overpass  the  forgiving  mercies  of  God, 
but  because,  the  last  evidence  to  the  truth  of  Christianity 
having  failed  to  subdue  infidelity,  there  lay  a  direct  impos- 
sibility against  the  reception  of  Christ  as  a  propitiation. 

And  now,  therefore,  "  swept  and  garnished1' — swept  by 
the  rushing  of  the  mighty  wind  of  Pentecost,  and  garnished 
with  the  trophies  of  baflled  disease  and  vanquished  death 
— the  nation  stood  forth  a  nation  of  scorners  ;  and  whilst 
there  went  forwards  in  their  streets  the  preaching  of  the 
Eesurrection,  and  they  were  entreated  to  fill  up  with  an  In- 
carnate Deity  the  vast  void  which  they  felt  in  their  undy- 
ing souls,  they  blasphemously  refused  to  admit  the  Mediator 
into  the  untenanted  chambers,  and  thus  left  free  the  space 
to  the  incursions  of  the  unclean  spirits.  With  the  noiseless 
but  rapid  march  of  the  pestilence,  the  troop  of  demons, 
strengthened  both  in  numbers  and  energies,  rushed  into 
the  unoccupied  dwellings,  and  grasped  again  the  sovereign- 
ty from  which  they  had  been  ejected.  Expelled  from  the 
"  dry  places"  of  heathenism,  they  poised  themselves,  so  to 
speak,  on  their  raven  wings,  over  the  scene  of  their  former 
dominion  ;  and  perceiving  that  the  throne  had  been  refused 


20  Till    RETURN  OF  [Lect. 

to  the  rightful  Lord,  they  came  down,  thirsting  f>>v  human 
blood  :  and,  with  the  only  Laugh  which  fiends  can  laugh,  the 
laugh  at  bringing  others  to  share  their  fire  and  their  Bhame, 
buried  themselves  in  the  nation's  heart,  and  Judaea  was 
their  own.  And,  <»li !  indeed,  the  last  Btate  of  that  gener- 
ation was  worse  than  the  first.  If  yon  consult  the  histories 
of  the  period  between  tin-  Crucifixion  of  Christ  and  the 
destruction  <>f  Jerusalem,  you  will  find  the  Jews  presenting 

all  the  aspect  of  .-i  possessed  and  maddened  ] pie,  acting 

;i~  though  rurieswere  gnawing  at  the  vital-  of  Bociety,  ami 
causing  every  member,  from  the  highest  to  the  Lowest,  t<» 
gnash  the  teeth,  ami  wring  th.-  hands.  Magicians  and  im- 
postors overran  the  land,  seducing  thousands,  and  drawing 
upon  tli. 'in,  as  upon  rebels,  the  vengeance  of  the  Romans. 
Hie  sword  was  never  sheathed :  and  when  foreign  armies 
ceased, for  m  moment,  t<>  harass,  civil  discord  blazed  out, 
and  each  man's  hand  was  turned  against  hi-  fellow.  Never 
was  there,  indeed,  a  more  disastrous  Bpectacle.  You  can 
give  no  explanation  how  a  people  could  1"-  thus  torn,  and  dis- 
tracted, :tnd  infuriated,  except  thai  there  were  harboured  an- 
dean spirits  in  their  breasts  ;  and  that  these  demons,  playing 
with  th.- -Mil-  and  th.'  Limbs  of  their  vassals,  pnx  laimed  a 
carnival  t"  \\  ar,  and  ghastliness,  and  suicide.  And  there  were 
no  signs  of  turning  unto  God.  The  nation  writhed  in  agony, 
but  benl  net  the  knee  in  penitence.  They  answered  to  the 
awful  description  of  tin-  men,  upon  whom  tin-  fifth  vial 
i-  poured,  who  are  Baid  to  "gnaw  their  tongues  for  pain, 
mid  t"  blaspheme  the  God  of  Heaven  because  of  their 
pains,  and  their  Bores,  and  to  repenl  nol  of  their  deeds." 

The  end  came  "n,  and  tin-  unclean  Bpirits  girded  them- 
selves for  their  Las1   revelry.      Was  it   these  -;  : 


I.]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  21 

Satan  is  the  Prince  of  the  power  of  the  air — who  caused 
the  war  chariots  to  career  along  the  clouds ;  who  hung  the 
sword  of  fire  over  the  city ;  who  breathed  mysterious 
sounds  as  of  a  multitude  departing  from  the  Temple,  or  of 
Divinity  forsaking  its  shrine ;  and  who  produced  all  that 
series  of  prodigies,  which  even  heathen  historians  describe 
as  heralding  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem  ?  It  may  be  that 
demous  delighted  in  thus  causing  alarm,  when  they  knew 
that  alarm  would  not  lead  to  repentance.  But,  at  all 
events,  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  ushered  in  with  these  fear- 
ful signs,  gave  opportunity  to  the  demons  to  let  loose  all 
their  madness.  We  speak  not  of  the  famine,  though  a 
demon  must  have  seized  on  that  mother,  who  slew  her  in- 
fant, and  dressed  it  for  food.  We  speak  not  of  the 
slaughter,  though  their  conqueror  Titus  was  the  mildest 
of  men,  and  demons  must  have  goaded  them  to  the  com- 
pelling him  to  carnage.  We  speak  of  the  broad  marks  of 
a  national  madness,  of  a  national  demoniacal  possession. 
Shut  up  in  the  city,  the  opposite  factions  filled  even  the 
Temple  with  slaughter,  as  though  there  had  not  been 
enough  of  foreign  enemies.  They  destroyed  the  very 
granaries  of  corn  which  should  have  sustained  them,  and 
burnt  the  magazines  of  arms  which  should  have  defended 
them.  With  their  own  hands  they  set  the  first  fire  to  the 
porticoes  of  the  Temple,  and  taught  their  conquerors  to 
desecrate  the  Sanctuary,  And  how  account  we  for  this 
strangeness  of  fury  ?  What  explanation  can  we  give  of 
such  unparalleled  infatuation  ?  Oh,  we  can  only  say,  that 
the  unclean  spirits  had  come  back  from  the  dry  places  of 
the  Gentiles,  and  that  they  had  entered  into  the  Jews  with 
a  sevenfold  mightiness ;  and  that  now,  lashing  the  popula- 


22  THE  RETURN  OF  [Lect. 

lion  into  madness,  and  determined  to  have  their  fill  <>f 
human  agony,  ere  the  devoted  nation  was  ground  into 
powder,  and  Bprinkled  over  the  globe,  they  were  working 
out  for  all  posterity  a  proof  of  the  assertion,  "The  last 
state  of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first." 

But  we  cannot  pursue  further  the  application  of  our 
parable  to  the  Jews.  We  think  that  we  have  said  enough 
to  Bhow  yon  the  fidelity  of  the  sketch  ;  and  we  leave  it  to 
your  own  minds  to  fill  up  in  greater  detail  the  outlines. 
We  proceed  t<>  apply  briefly  the  parable  to  ourselves. 
We  shall  attempt  nothing  beyond  grasping  and  illustrat- 
ing the  general   idea;   for  undoubtedly  it  was  the  main 

:'i  of  the  parable  fco  convey  one  great  lesson,  though 
Bundry  minute  circumstances  are  introduced  into  the  alle- 
gory. We  take  this  general  idea  to  be,  that  conviction  of 
sin.  which  does  not  end  in  conversion,  hardens,  in  place  of 
benefitting,  a  man.  We  will  strive  to  exhibit  this  idea, 
and  to  demonstrate  its  truth  by  a  few  statements  which  all 
iii.iv  comprehend.  Now  men  will  come  up  t>>  the  public 
preaching  >>\'  the  word,  though  tin-  master  natural-passion, 
whatever  it  be,  retains  undisputed  dominion.  Ami  this 
passion  may  be  avarice,  or  voluptuousness,  or  ambition,  or 
envy,  or  pride.  But  however  characterized,  the  unclean 
Bpirit   i>   brought   into  the  sanctuary,  ami  ex]  30  t<> 

Bpeak,  to  the  exorcisms  of  the  preacher.  Ami  who  Bhall 
Bay  what  a  disturbing  force  the  Bermon  will  often  put 
forth  against  the  master-passion;  how  frequently  the  word 
of  the  living  God,  delivered  in  earnestness  and  effect,  Bhall 
almost  made  a  breach  in  the  Btrong-holda  of  Satan  1 
It*  the  demon  ever  tremble  for  his  ascendancy,  it  is  when 
the  preacher  has  riveted  the  attention  <>t'  the  possessed  in- 


L]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  23 

dividual ;  and  after  describing  and  denouncing  the  covet- 
ous, or  exhibiting  the  voluptuary,  or  exposing  the  madness 
and  misery  of  the  proud,  comes  down  on  that  individual 
with  the  startling  announcement,  "  Thou  art  the  man." 
And  the  individual  will  go  away  from  the  sanctuary, 
thoroughly  convinced  of  the  duty  of  ejecting  the  unclean 
spirit ;  and  he  will  form,  and,  for  a  while,  he  will  act  on, 
the  resolution  of  wrestling  against  pride,  or  of  mortifying 
lust,  or  of  renouncing  avarice.  So  that  the  demon  may 
be  said  to  go  out  of  the  man,  having  yielded  to  the  exor- 
cisms of  the  preacher. 

But  then  the  individual,  in  whom  conviction  has  been 
wrought,  is  acting  in  his  own  strength,  and,  having  no 
consciousness  of  the  infirmities  of  his  nature,  seeks  not  to 
God's  Spirit  for  assistance.  In  a  little  time,  therefore,  all 
the  impression  will  wear  away.  He  saw  oidy  the  danger 
of  sin ;  he  went  not  on  to  see  its  vileness ;  and  the  mind 
soon  habituates  itself,  or  soon  grows  indifferent,  to  the 
contemplation  of  clanger,  and,  above  all,  when  perhaps 
distant.  He  will  therefore  allow  the  conviction,  which 
had  not  indeed  penetrated  below  the  surface,  to  be  swept 
off.  Nay,  he  will  even  garnish  his  soul  with  a  sort  of 
hardy  persuasion  that  the  preacher  exaggerated  the  dan- 
ger, and  that  the  master-passion  may  be  indulged  with 
comparative  impunity.  And  thus  swept,  and  thus  gar- 
nished, he  returns  to  his  old  haunts.  The  unclean  spirit, 
which  had  hovered  round  him  during  his  brief  hour  of 
amendment,  is  reinstated  in  the  sovereignty  of  the  soul. 
And  whether  it  be  to  money-making  that  he  again  gives 
himself,  or  to  sensuality,  or  to  ambition,  he  will  enter  into 
the  pursuit  with  an  eagerness  heightened  by  abstinence ; 


2  I  THE  RETURN  OF  [Lec*. 

and  tb.ua  tin-  result  -hall  be  practically  the  same  ae  though 
the  unclean  spirit  had  Leagued  Beven  others  with  himself 
and  those  too  more  consummate  and  more  awful  in  their 
wickedness.  And  if  the  man,  after  this  ejectment  and 
restoration  of  the  unclean  spirit,  come  again  to  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  if  again  the  preacher  denounce  with  a  right- 
eous vehemence  every  working  of  ungodliness,  and  make 
a  bold  stand  for  God  and  for  truth  against  a  reckless  and 
unbelieving  generation,  alas!  the  man  who  has  fell  convic- 
tions, and  smothered  them,  will  be  more  ^accessible  than 
ever,  and  more  impervious.  He  wil]  be  hardened  by  the 
38  through  which  he  has  passed  of  the  casting  out, 
and  receiving  back,  the  master-passion.  It  will  acquire  a 
far  mightier  instrumentality  than  before  to  make  the  very 
Lightesl  impression:  a  Bmothered  conviction  is  like  a  triple 
band  of  brass  round  the  evil  spirit's  throne. 

We  especially  wish  this  application  of  the  parable 
treasured  up  in  your  memories.  Ye  may  learn  from  it  the 
peril  "t"  trifling  with  convictions.  The  parable,  when  thus 
interpreted,  is  one  of  the  mosl  striking  delineations  which 
the  Scriptures  present,  "t"  a  truth  which  should  1"'  always 
borne  in  mind,  that  he,  who  takes  a  step  towards  God, 
and  then  draws  back,  does  doI  fall  again  into  hi-  old  posi- 
tion; he  will  be  further  off  khan  it'  he  had  never  ap- 
ihed ;  if  the  advance  was  an  inch,  the  retreal  will  be 
a  league.  And  when  you  think  thai  there  the  man  is  n<>w 
sitting,  unmoved  by  the  terrors  of  the  word;  that  he  can 
with    indifference   t.»  the  very   truths   which    once 

itated   him;  and    that,  as  a  consequent n  the   re-en- 

trnnce  of  the  unclean  spirit,  he  has  more  of  the  marble  in 
his  composition  than  before,  more  of  the  ice,  more  of  the 


L]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  25 

iron;  and  that  thus  the  likelihood  of  his  salvation  is  fear- 
fully diminished;  oh,  you  can  need  no  proof  of  the  justice 
of  the  verdict,  that  "  the  last  state  of  that  man  is  worse 
than  the  first." 

Might  not  the  parable  before  us  admit  of  a  national, 
as  well  as  of  an  individual,  application  ?  It  were,  of  course, 
easy  to  illustrate  over  again  the  general  idea,  just  altering 
our  language,  so  that  nation  might  be  substituted  for  indi- 
vidual. If  a  people  be  moved  by  the  startling  sermons 
of  God's  judgments — by  pestilence,  for  example,  or  by 
famine — to  humble  themselves  before  Him,  and  to  put 
away  from  them  some  fractions  of  their  wickedness  ;  and 
if,  when  health  is  restored,  or  plenty  again  smiles  on  their 
plains,  they  forget  the  Almighty,  and  return,  every  man, 
to  his  iniquities ;  why  assuredly  we  have  here,  as  well  as 
with  an  individual,  the  casting  out,  and  the  taking  back, 
of  the  unclean  spirit ;  and  we  conclude,  on  precisely  the 
same  principles,  that  the  last  state  of  that  land  shall  be 
worse  than  the  first. 

But  we  cannot  conceal  our  persuasion  that  the  parable 
sketches,  with  a  still  stronger  pencil,  the  possible  conduct 
and  condition  of  a  nation  circumstanced  like  our  own. 
We  occupy  so  precisely  the  position  which  the  Jews 
occupied  as  a  peculiar  people,  that  there  is  always  an  ante- 
cedent probability  that  what  sketches  nationally  the  one, 
may  sketch  also  nationally  the  other.  And  if  we  look  to 
England  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation,  we  find  that 
men,  raised  up  by  God,  and  endowed  of  Him  with  singu- 
lar boldness,  and  wisdom,  and  piety,  exorcised  the  unclean 
spirit  of  Romish  superstition,  and  ejected  from  amongst  us 
the  corruptions  of  Popery.     It  was  a  sublime  moral  revo- 


26  THE  RETURN  OF  [Lect. 

Lution,  and  never  did  the  human  mind  Btrnggle  free  from  a 
more  oppressive  Bhackle,  never  was  there  thrown  off  from 
a  people  a  mightier  weight,  than  when  Reformers  had  won 
the  hard-fought  battle,  and  Protestantism  was  enthroned 
as  the  religion  of  these  realms.  I'm  we  should  like  to 
have  it  carefully  considered,  whether  there  have  been  no 
receiving  back  the  unclean  spirit.  The  human  mind,  Long 
enslaved,  was  intoxicated  with  its  freedom,  and,  in  j 
of  stopping  at  liberty,  wenl  on  to  lawL  ssness.  Eence  the 
overspreading  of  the  land  with  a  thousand  Beets  and  a 
thousand  systems;  as  though,  in  casting  out  the  one  Bpirit 
of  ecclesiastical  tyranny,  we  had  taken  in  the  Beven  of 
ecclesiastical  disunion.  And  over  and  above  this  melan- 
choly disruption  of  the  visible  Church,  Popery  itself  has 

t ften  found  a  home  in  our  Protestantism:  for  when- 

formality  has  insinuated  itself  into  religion,  or  Belf- 
righteousness,  or  tin-  substitution  of   means  for   an    end, 
then  has  there  been  introduced  the  very  essence  of  Ro- 
manism:  the  ejected  spiril   has  come  back,  the  same  in 
nature,  though  less  repulsive  in  appearance.     We  Bpeak, 
of  course,  of  the  great  mass  of  Protestants;  and  no 
who  is  acquainted  with  the  English  ecclesiastical  hisl 
Bince  the  period  of  the  Reformation,  can  call  it  an  exag- 
gerated statement,  that  the  torn  and  shattered  condition 
of  Christians  renl  into  a  thousand  parties,  and  the  nominal 
tautism,  which   has  taken    the    place   of   prof       ! 
with    a   greal    ma—  of  our   community,  furnish' 
melancholy  evidence,  that,  in  place  of  ;  finally  rid  of 

the  unclean  Bpirit,  he  has  found  harbourage  amongsl  us  for 
himself  and  his  allii 

And,  as  though  thiswere  not  enough,  have  we  not,  of 


L]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  27 

late  years,  as  a  nation,  ay,  and  even  as  a  Church,  tampered 
with  Popery,  almost  as  though  we  had  sent  embassages  to 
the  dry  places,  soliciting  the  cast-out  spirit  to  return  openly 
and  undisguised  ?  Therefore  has  it  come  to  jDass  that  we 
are  in  our  present  extraordinary  predicament,  obliged  to 
rouse  ourselves  as  though  against  the  forces  of  an  invader, 
menaced  with  the  loss  of  that  pure  form  of  faith  which  we 
received  from  the  Eeformers,  and  with  the  re-establishment 
of  the  system  which  those  venerated  men  lived,  and  which 
they  died,  to  eject.  There  must  be  no  relaxation  in  our 
resistance  to  Popery ;  the  parable  before  us  is  most  em- 
phatic in  its  warning  ;  if  we  receive  back  the  evil  spirit,  he 
will  come,  having  taken  to  himself  seven  other  spirits  more 
wicked  than  himself ;  and  "the  last  state  of  that  land  shall 
be  worse  than  the  first."  O  England,  honoured  by  the 
Almighty,  as  no  other  land  hath  been,  a  speck  upon  the 
waters,  and  yet  chief  amongst  the  nations,  may  not  Christ 
speak  to  thee  in  something  of  the  same  sad,  reproachful 
words  with  which  He  spake  to  Jerusalem :  "  How  often 
would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  as  a  hen  doth 
gather  her  brood  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not." 
Not  indeed  that  the  "  things  which  belong  to  thy  peace  are 
hidden  from  thine  eyes."  God  be  praised,  we  are  not  yet 
come  to  that !  But  we  may  be  on  the  high  road.  We  have 
had  unexampled  privileges :  have  we  not  neglected  them  ? 
have  we  duly  improved  them  ?  "  What  could  have  been 
done  more  to  the  vineyard  that  has  not  been  clone  ?"  God 
raised  up  men  to  exorcise  the  evil  spirit.  But  if  we  per- 
mit that,  under  one  shape  or  another,  the  spirit  shall  come 
back  ;  if  we  allow  the  marks  and  defences  of  true  Protest- 
antism  to   be   "  swept"  from  the   land  ;  if  we  "  garnish" 


28  THE  RETURN  OF  [Lect. 

ourselves  with  that  spurious  liberality  which  would  sink 
the  difference  of  creeds,  and  represent  the  distinctions  as 
unimportant  between  the  Eteformed  and  the  Roman,  why 
then,  Bwept  and  garnished,  we  stand  ready  for  a  fresh  Bur- 
render  tn  the  tyranny  of  Anti-Christ,  whether  in  the  form 
of  Popery,  or  his  last  form  of  infidelity. 

Then,  truly,  shall  the  last  Btate  be  worse  than  the  first. 
But  we  are  not  come  to  this.  These  art-  lmt  words  of 
warning,  rather  than  of  denunciation.  Still,  we  must  say, 
however  hopeful  the  recent  signs  of  vitality  and  vigour  in 
the  Protestantism  of  the  land,  Oh  that  the  many  mercies 
which  are  still  continued  to  us  as  a  nation,  might  Lead  as  to 
consider  well  the  return  which  God  Looks  for  at  our  hands  ! 
The  parable  before  as  has  indeed  a  national,  just  as  well  as  an 
individual,  application.  But,  in  neither  case,  even  if  there 
have  been  a  receiving  back  of  the  evi]  spirit,  even  it'  he 
have  returned  with  sevenfold  might,  in  neither  case  is  there 
asity  that  we  retain  this  spirit.  We  may,  through 
God's  help,  eject  it  nationally;  we  may,  through  (rod's 
help,  eject  it  individually.  We  may  eject  it  nationally. 
We  may  put  from  us  our  sabbath-breaking,  our  covetous- 

,  our  pride,  our  indifference,  and  thus  become  IV 
ants  in  something  better  than  name,  Living  protests  for  truth, 
bold  witnesses  for  God  j  and  over  a  Protestantism  Buch  as 
this,  even  though  no  acts  of  Parliament  should  come  to  its 
aid,  there  is  no  power  in  Rome  which  shall  ever  ride  ram- 
pant. And  we  may  eject  the  unclean  Bpirit  individually. 
Whatever  that  andean  spirit  be,  whether  the  Bpirit  of 
avarice,orof  Lust,  or  of  pride,orof  malice,^which  of  you 
is  compelled  to  continue  harbouring  this  spirit?  which  of 
you  is  forced  to  give  up  his  heart  to  be  the  temple  of  this 


I.]  THE  DISPOSSESSED  SPIRIT.  29 

spirit  ?  who  is  necessitated  to  remain  the  miser  or  the  sen- 
sualist ?  The  unclean  spirit  can  only  stay  whilst  you  make 
him  welcome.  "  Kesist  the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from 
you."  There  is  a  mightier  than  he  proffering  you  assist- 
ance. And,  oh !  if  a  nation  or  an  individual  will  do  battle 
once  more  with  the  unclean  spirit,  in  the  strength  of  the 
living-  God,  once  more  shall  he  be  cast  out,  and  forced  to 
seek  rest  in  the  dry  places  of  the  earth ;  and  of  that  na- 
tion, or  that  individual,  it  may  yet  be  true,  that  though 
there  have  been  a  second  state  worse  than  the  first,  the  last 
state  shall  be  blessed,  the  last  shall  be  triumphant. 


LECTl'RK   II. 


Xmn\  frnm  tlir  Hork. 


mi  is. 


ide  him  ride  an  the  high  plat  •  irth,  thai  he  real    of  the 

fields;  and  he  made  him  to  suck  honey  out  of  the  rock, and  oil  oul  of  the  flinty  rock." 

■•  A  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,"  was  the  description 
of  the  Canaan  promised  to  the  Israelites.  "Aland  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey,"  describes  also  the  Christian's  present 
inheritance,  and  -till  more  the  possession  reserve  1  for  him 
in  Heaven.  Our  text  occurs  in  the  song  of  Moses,  that 
Bublime  composition  in  which,  ere  he  ascended  Mbunl  Nebo 
to  die,  the  lawgiver  reviewed  <  rod's  d<  alings  w  ith  his  people, 
and  foretold  whal  Bhould  befall  them,  it"  they  turned  aside 
to  ili«"  service  of  idols.  It  is  in  anticipation  of  their  en- 
trance into  Canaan,  thai  he  speaks  of  their  eating  the  in- 
crease of  the  fields,  and  sucking  lioney  ou1  of  the  rock; 
so  that,  whilst  the  pasl  I  employed,  the  passage  must 

be  regarded  as  prophetic.     And  forasmuch  as  the  history 
of  the  Israelites  is  confessedly  a  typical  or  figurative  hist 
sketching,  as  in  parable,  much  thai   befalls  the  Christian 
Church  in  general,  and   it-  members  in  particular,  we  may 
expecl  th.it  the  prophecj  before  as  will  find  its  accomplish- 


HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  31 

ment  in  the  experience  of  true  disciples  of  Christ  in  every 
nation  and  age. 

This  is  the  use  which,  on  the  present  occasion,  we 
would  make  of  the  text.  You  can  have  no  difficulty  in 
understanding  it  in  its  primary  application  to  the  children 
of  Israel.  God  emphatically  made  them  "ride  on  the 
high  places  of  the  earth;"  He  "caused  Israel,  as  a  tri- 
umphant conqueror,  riding  in  grand  procession,  to  possess 
the  fortified  cities  and  inaccessible  mountains,  which  the 
Canaanites  thought  secure  from  their  assaults."  "  Iu  this 
fertile  land,  the  rocky  parts  which  were  the  least  valued, 
and  which,  in  other  countries,  are  generally  unproductive, 
by  the  peculiar  blessing  of  God,  afforded  them  abundance 
of  the  finest  honey  and  oil."  Thus  taken,  the  text  is  little 
more  than  an  assertion  of  the  extraordinary  richness  of 
the  productions  of  Canaan, — productions  to  be  enjoyed 
by  the  obedient,  who  should  yield  themselves  unreserv- 
edly to  the  commandments  of  God.  But,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  every  thing  about  the  Jewish  people 
was  significative  or  emblematical :  Canaan  itself  was  a 
type  of  the  condition,  both  here  and  hereafter,  of  the 
disciples  of  Christ.  Whatsoever,  therefore,  the  terms  by 
which  the  richness  of  the  literal  Canaan  is  described,  or 
the  favoured  condition  of  its  inhabitants,  we  may  justly 
suppose  that  these  terms,  metaphorically  taken,  are  ex- 
pressive of  the  provision  made  in  Christ  for  His  Church, 
of  the  privileges  appertaining  to  those  who  love  Him, 
and  trust  in  Him,  with  all  the  heart,  and  soul,  and 
strength. 

There  cannot,  then,  be  any  thing  forced  in  the  applica- 
tion which  we  shall  make  of  our  text,  if  we  consider  it  as 


32  IH'M.Y  1  ROM  Till.  lax  K.  Lb  r. 

delineating  what  may  be  the  bappy  portion  of  Christians. 
We  Bay,  what  may  be;  for  yon  are  do1  to  regard  the 
verse  as  describing  what  all  Christiana  enjoy,  so  much  aa 
what  those  may  expect  who  are  Berving  the  Lord  with  the 
greatest  devotedness.  There  is  an  evident  indication  in 
the  text  of  Btrnggle  and  conquest  aa  preceding  the  p 
Bion  of  the  rich  produce  of  Canaan.  This  we  wish  yon 
particularly  to  observe.  The  riding  on  the  high  place-  of 
the  earth,  is  in  order  to,  is  preparatory  to,  the  eating 
"the  increase  of  the  fields;"  aa  though  that  eating  were 
in  recompense  of  mastery  won  over  the  strong-holds  of 
the  enemy.  Thia  having  been  premised,  let  as  go  straight- 
way to  the  considermg  the  imporl  of  the  promises  which 
may  be  said  to  be  contained  in  our  text:  the  first,  a 
promise,  that  when,  through  God's  help,  a  Christian  has 
wreatled  with  and  overcome  his  enemies,  he  Bhal]  "eat  the 
increase  of  the  fields;"  the  second,  a  promise  thai  he  -hall 
"suck  honey  out  of  the  rock,  and  <>il  out  of  the  flinty 
rock." 

Now  it  i-  a  truth,  of  which  yon  should  often  1»<- 
reminded,  that  Christianity,  a-  it  was  do1  Be1  up  at  one-  in 
the  world,  l>nt  lefll  to  make  its  way,  by  slow  and  painful 
struggles,  toward-  a  dominion  which  it  has  uo1  pel  at- 
tained, so  it  is  progressive,  and  uol  instantaneous,  in 
acquiring  empire  in  individual  cases.  There  may  1><-  uo 
inconsiderable  analog}  between  the  history  of  Christianity 
in  the  world,  and  ita  history  in  the  individual.  Chris- 
tianity, when  first  published,  made  rapid  way.  a-  though 
lait  few  years  could  elapse  er  •  everj  false  system  would 
vanish   before  it.     Then  came  interruptions,  backsliding, 

eneracy;  and  afterward-,  repentance,  partial  reforma- 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  33 

tions,  and  heartier  endeavours.  But  the  consummation  is 
still  a  thing  only  of  hope ;  and  Christ  must  re-appear  in 
power  and  great  majesty,  ere  his  religion  shall  prevail  in 
every  household  and  every  heart.  In  like  manner,  the 
converted  individual  devotes  himself,  at  first,  with  the 
greatest  ardency,  to  the  duties  of  religion :  after  a  while, 
too  commonly,  the  ardency  declines  ;  duties  are  partially 
neglected,  or  languidly  performed :  then  the  man  is  roused 
afresh,  and  labours,  in  bitterness  of  spirit,  to  recover  the 
ground  so  unhappily  lost ;  but  though,  on  the  whole,  he 
advances,  there  remains  much  land  to  be  won  by  religion ; 
and  it  will  not  be  before  "  the  clay  of  the  Lord"  that  he 
is  "  sanctified  wholly  in  body,  soul,  and  spirit."  Neverthe- 
less, the  true  character  of  religion  in  both  cases  is  that  of 
progressiveness ;  or  rather,  perhaps,  we  should  say,  of  an 
inability  to  be  stationary:  it  may  not  always  be  on  the 
advance ;  but,  if  not  on  the  advance,  we  may  conclude  it 
on  the  decline ;  for  there  is  that  in  its  nature  which  for- 
bids the  standing  still.  "  To  be  perfect,  even  as  our 
Father  which  is  in  Heaven  is  perfect,"  may  not  be  looked 
for  whilst  we  dwell  in  the  flesh :  but  nothing  less  must  be 
our  desire,  nothing  less  our  aim  ;  and  it  ought  to  suggest 
a  thought,  whether  we  have  ever  commenced  in  religion, 
if  we  feel  content,  though  we  have  not  attained  to  per- 
fection. 

The  believer  has  all  along  to  struggle  with  indwell- 
ing sin,  to  keep  under  the  body,  to  study,  that  he  may 
copy,  the  example  of  Christ,  to  labour  at  the  cleansing 
himself  of  all  the  filthiness  of  the  flesh  and  spirit,  and 
perfecting  holiness  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  And  beyond 
question,  there  is  required,  in  order  to  this,  much  of  pain- 


34  HONEY  PROM  THE  ROCK-  [Lect. 

tul  and  perilous  effort.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  maintain 
war  with  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil;  to  be  always 
on  the  watch  for  occasions  of  mastering  ourselves,  or  on 
the  alert  to  Beize  means  for  acquiring  greater  conformity 
to  the  Image  of  our  Lord.  Bnt  if  the  duty  be  painful,  it 
is  in  the  highest  degree  profitable;  for  God  hath  bo  asso- 
ciated <»ur  happiness  with  holiness,  He  hath  made  us  so 
dependent,  both  here  and  hereafter,  for  acquaintance  with 
FTiTTiaftlfj  which  is  the  Boul'a  great  joy,  on  our  diligence  in 
endeavouring  to  keep  his  commandments,  that,  if  we 
thought  of  nothing  but  how  to  multiply  our  gladness 
and  peace,  we  should  labour  at  nothing  but  bow  we  may 
destroy  the  remainders  of  Bin,  and  cleanse  thoroughly 
that  Temple  in  which  it  ph-asrs  the  Almighty  to  dwell. 

And   there  is  no  respect  in  which  the  present  advan- 
tageousness  of  unwearied  diligence  in  our  heavenly  call- 

b  more  evidenced  than  in  this,  that,  in  proportion  as 
ae  more  Bpiritually-minded,  the  beauties  of  Scrip- 
ture are  more  and  more  unveiled.  Not  in  vain  is  it  -aid, 
•  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  Bee  God." 
It  is  not  bo  much  the  darkness  of  the  understanding,  as 
the  darkness  of  the  heart,  which  prevents  the  view  of 
God  as  revealed  in  his  word:  our  evi]  passions  weave  the 
ini-t  which  obscures  those  high  truths  that  are  gathered 
into  the  statements  of  tip'  Bible,  And  it'  we  would  know 
more  and  more  of  the  precious  stores  which  the  bs 
Volume  contains,  it  is  not  bo  much  by  hard  study,  as  by 
hard  Belf-discipline,  that  we  may  hope  to  prevail:  com- 
mentators may  do  something  towards  Bolving  what  is 
difficult,  and  elucidating  whal  is  obscure:  but  the  best 
commentator   is   the    mortifying   Bin,   and    the   imitating 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  35 

Christ.  I  should  say  that  he  who  had  just  won  some 
great  victory  over  himself,  or  made  some  great  sacrifice  in 
the  service  of  God,  was  better,  more  hopefully  situated 
for  unravelling  the  intricacies,  and  apprehending  the 
secrets,  of  the  Bible,  than  if  he  had  suddenly  gained  ac- 
quaintance with  the  laws  of  criticism,  and  the  illustrations 
of  learning. 

And  may  we  not  fairly  say  that  something  of  this  kind 
is  figuratively  asserted  in  our  text,  where  the  "  riding  on 
the  high  places  of  the  earth"  is  made  to  conduct  to  the 
being  fed  with  "  the  increase  of  the  fields  ?"  "  The  in- 
crease of  the  fields" — "  Man  doth  not  live  by  bread  alone ; 
but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Lord  doth  man  live."  Every  word  is  precious,  fitted 
for  the  nourishing  of  the  soul,  that  immortal  part  which 
craves  other  sustenance  than  earth  can  furnish.  But  some 
portions  of  what  the  field  yields  are  finer  than  others — 
declarations  which  are  more  expressive  of  the  tenderness, 
the  graciousness  of  God ;  doctrines  which  are  less  obvious, 
but  richer  in  comfort;  promises  which  breathe  more  of 
the  depth,  the  intenseness  of  heaven — these  are  specially 
"the  increase  of  the  fields" — what  it  does  not  yield  at 
first,  but  after  time  and  tillage ;  and  with  these  will  God 
feed  those  who  ride,  so  to  speak,  "  on  the  high  places  of 
the  earth,"  seeding,  with  the  Israelites,  the  loftiest  towers, 
that  they  may  expel  the  Canaanite  from  his  fortress,  or 
sin  from  its  lurking-place.  A  man,  when  he  begins  in 
religion,  lives  commonly,  if  we  may  keep  up  the  simile, 
on  the  plainer  parts  of  the  Bible :  the  great  facts  of  an 
Atonement,  a  propitiation  for  sin,  reconciliation  to  God 
through  the  suretyship  of  a  Mediator,  these  are  his  sus- 


36  lloM'.Y  PROM  Till:  ROCK.  [Lect. 

tenance;  and  verily  through  his  firm  faith  in  these,  he 
feeds  on  that  bread  of  life  which  came  down  from  heaven 
Rut  whilst  Buch  troths  never  cease  to  be  sweet  to  his 
taste,  and  strengthening  to  his  soul,  he  will,  as  he  perse- 
veres  in  righteousness,  as  he  rides,  that  is  more  and  more 
on  the  high  places  <>t*  tin-  earth — subduing  the  towering 
eminences  of  the  world  ami  the  flesh — as  lie  <l<>e>  this,  In- 
will,  we  say,  discover  and  appropriate  other  truths — the 
until-.  for  example,  of  God's  electing  love,  of  the  actual 
indwelling  of  God  in  tin-  soul,  of  the  present  commence- 
ment ami  communication  of  heavenly  joys,  of  Buch  an 
union  between  tin-  Beveral  parts  of  the  mystical  body  as 
was  iiitrii<li-<l  by  the  Saviour  when  He  prayed  on  behalf 
of  Lis  followers,  "that  they  may  be  one,  even  as  we  are 
one."  Buch  truths  may  be  regarded  as,  in  a  Bpecia]  sense, 
"the  increase  of  the  fields" — what  the  land  yields  to  the 
patient  and  persevering  husbandman.  There  is  Buch  a 
thing,  ai rding  to  the  Apostle,  as  the  continuing  in  in- 
fancy, and  being  fed  with  milk  ■  there  is  also  Buch  a  thing 
as  the  advancing  to  manhood,  and  being  fed  with  meal  : 
and  this  is  but  another  allegorical  representation  of  what 
Beems  figured  in  our  text,  that  Borne  may  eat  of  what  the 
yields  of  itself  whilst  the  choice  increase  is  reserved 
for  Buch  as  toil  earnestly  at  subduing  the  land. 

\  .t  indeed  tt  •  the  higher  truths  are  wholly  different 
from  the  other;  for  Christ  must  be  the  Btaple  in  all  food 
<>f  the  -"ill  they  are  rather  the  same  truths,  but  in  a 
more  refined  and  exquisite  Btate,  prepared  for  those  "who 
have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of  the 
world  i"  come."  <  >h.  my  brethren,  let  it  aever  be  re- 
garded by  you  as  the  mere  wandering  of  enthusiasm,  nor 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  37 

resolved  into  the  fancy  of  the  mystic,  that  there  is  to  be 
attained  by  man,  in  his  sojourning  upon  earth,  an  intimate 
communion,  or  correspondence  with  his  Heavenly  Father, 
a  real  though  spiritual  intercourse,  so  that  God  shall  dis- 
cover his  perfections  to  the  soul,  and  manifest  Himself 
"  even  as  He  doth  not  to  the  world."     In  place  of  regard- 
ing such  seasons  as  only  dreamed   of  in   a   heated   and 
transcendental  theology,  we   would  press   upon  you  the 
endeavouring  to  make  them  matter  of  personal  experi- 
ence, assuring  you  that,  if  you  are  going  on,  as  you  should 
be,  towards  perfection,  you  will  find  truth  after  truth 
unfolded  to  the  mind,  just  as  though  the  heavenly  teacher 
were  actually  at  your  side,  expounding  to  you  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  making  the  heart  burn  within  you,  as  He  caused 
the  magnificence  of  the  invisible  world  to  pass  before  you 
in  glorious  procession.     This  is  not  setting  you  to  seek 
what  is  mystical  and  indefinite,  rather  than  what  is  practi- 
cal and  palpable.     For  we  tell  you  unreservedly  that  there 
is  no  way  of  acquiring  these  richer  privileges  of  the  believer, 
but  the  highway  of  holiness ;  and  that,  if  you  would  enjoy 
the  especial  communications  of  God  to  the  soul ;   if  you 
would  find  delight  in  the  deeper  truths  of  Scripture,  if 
you  would  anticipate  the  blessedness  of  heaven,  your  only 
course  is  perseverance  in  self-denial,  the  giving  unwearied 
diligence   to    "adorn   in   all   things   the  doctrine  of  the 
Saviour."     Do  this,  this  which,  in  the  figurative  language 
of  our   text,  is   the   riding  on    the   high   places    of   the 
earth,   and  we  may  promise  you  that  you  shall  not  be 
always  in  doubt  as  to  your  final  acceptance:    you  shall 
know  something  of  "  the  full  assurance  of  hope :"  you  shall 
find  such  precious  truths  as  these  brought  home  to  the 


38  IK)\i:v  FROM  THE  ROCK.  [Lect. 

sou],  uMv  si ]>  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them, 

they  follow  me;  and  they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall 
any  pluck  them  <>ut  of  my  hand  :"  "  All  things  are  yours, 
whether  lit'-  <>r  death,  things  present  or  things  (  i  come,  all 
are  yonrs,  and  ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's."  And 
as  yon  realize,  in  unwonted  measure,  the  presence  and 
precionsness  of  the  Redeemer,  and  gather  from  the  darker 
— (bu1  only  dark  with  excess  of  burning  light) — the  darker 
intimations  of  Scripture,  how  your  salvation  is  wound  up 
with  all  tin-  attributes  and  purposes  of  Deity,  you  will 
thankfully  confess,  that,  if  the  field  yield  food  for  the  sus- 
tenance of  all  who  follow  Christ,  there  is  special  provision 
for  rach  as  follow  Him  with  the  greater  constancy  and 
devotedness,  led  by  BQm  to  successive  conquests  over  foes 
entrenched  in  lofty  strong-holds— and  that  of  tip-'-  it  may 
be  Baid,  according  to  the  image  of  the  text, that  God  hath 
"made  them  ride  on  the  high  places  of  the  earth,  that 
they  might  eat  of  tip'  inn-fa-.'  of  the  fields." 

We  proceed  t<»  consider  the  Becond  part  of'  the  proph- 
ecy or  promise  of  "in-  text,  that  which  ha-  to  do  with 
the  obtaining  honey  from  the  rock,  and  <>il  from  the  flinty 
rock.    This  part  perhaps  even  further  than  the  first, 

in  connecting  the  blessing  with  diligence  in  those  on  whom 
it  i-  conferred.  If  honey  be  obtained  from  tip-  rock,  the 
rock  must  1"-  climbed:  and  since  it  will  not  lie  on  the 
Burface,  every  clefK  or  fissure  must  be  carefully  explored  — 
-,»  that  tip-  promise  appi  dally  i<>  presuppose  labour, 

and  therefore  bears  out  what  we  have  all  along  at 
that  tip  text  belongs  peculiarly  t"  those  who  are  " work- 
ing <»ut  their  salvation"  with  more  than  ordinary  eai 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  39 

But,  however  it  may  be  supposed  that  bees  might 
swarm  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks,  and  that  thus  there 
might  be  literally  ''honey  from  the  rock,"  there  would 
seem  to  be  a  sort  of  opposition  intended  between  the 
thing  produced  and  the  place  which  produces  it :  there  is 
nothing  congruous  between  the  place  and  the  production  : 
a  man  may  find  shelter  under  a  rock,  or  he  may  make  a 
foundation  of  a  rock ;  but  "  honey  from  the  rock"  is  what 
he  would  perhaps  never  expect :  he  would  not  naturally 
go  to  the  rock,  if  he  were  in  want  of  honey ;  and  we 
must  not  overlook  this  peculiarity  of  the  promise,  for  it  is 
full,  as  we  shall  find,  of  interest  and  instruction.  You 
know  that  the  figure  of  a  rock  or  a  stone,  is  very  fre- 
quently employed  in  the  Bible  to  represent  the  person  or 
offices  of  our  Lord.  Indeed,  a  rock  may  be  said  to  have 
been  the  standing  type  of  Christ  through  the  wanderings 
in  the  wilderness ;  for  the  people,  as  St.  Paul  says  to  the 
Corinthians,  "  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  that  followed 
them,  and  that  rock  was  Christ."  And  Christ  is  indeed 
emphatically  that  rock,  in  the  clefts  or  fissures  of  which, 
so  to  speak,  may  honey  be  found  :  "  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  him,  and  put  him  to  grief;"  "but  he  was  wounded 
for  our  transgressions,  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities." 
The  little  apparent  likelihood  of  the  rock  yielding  honey 
is  paralleled  by  the  strangedess  of  the  fact,  that  Christ 
conquered  by  yielding,  or  subdued  death  by  dying.  And 
if  you  take  the  rock  as  specially  that  typical  rock  which 
was  smitten  by  Moses  in  Horeb,  then  the  promise  of 
"  honey  from  the  rock"  may  be  as  much  a  promise  of 
peculiar  privileges  to  such  as  are  diligent  in  righteousness, 
as  that  of  eating  of  the  increase  of  the  fields.     Every 


40  BONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  [Lect. 

believer  draws  water  from  the  rock;  but  the  honey  may 
be  reserved  for  those  who  "by  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing" show  forth  eminently  the  praises  of  Him  who  "bare 
their  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree*" 

And  there  is  indeed  a  hidden  preciousness  in  the  Sa- 
viour, in  that  "  Eock  of  Ages  cleft  for  us,"  which  is  appre- 
hended and  appreciated  more  and  more  as  the  believer 
on  confiding  in  Christ,  and  striving  to  magnify  Him 
in  all  the  actions  of  his  life.  It  is  not  merely  a  general 
sense  of  the  sufficiency  of  the  Atonement  which  such  men 
obtain,  a  persuasion  that  there  is  provision  in  the  Mediator 
for  the  wants  of  -inner-,  even  the  very  chief.  Thej  go 
deeper  than  this:  they  find  in  Christ  such  -tores  of  conso- 
lation, Buch  "treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge,"  that 
they  are  never  weary  of  searching,  as  they  are  never  able 
to  exhaust  Every  necessity,  as  it  arises,  is  supplied  from 
his  fulness;  every  cloud  scattered  by  his  brightness;  every 
desire  either  satisfied,  or  it-  satisfaction  guaranteed,  by 
"the  unsearchable  riches"  of  his  work  of  Mediation. 
Christ,  if  we  may  venture  to  rae  the  expression,  grows  on 
the  believer;  he  has  but  little  idea  of  what  a  Saviour  He 
is,  when  he  first  trusts  Him  with  his  soul:  but,  as  la-  con- 
tinues "looking  unto  Jesus,"  "considering  Him  that 
endured  Buch  contradiction  of  sinners  againsl  Himself," 
meditating  "the  agony  and  bloody  sweat,  the  cross  and 
the  passion,"  he  comes  to  know  more  and  more  of  his  Lord, 
and  is  both  amazed  and  delighted  at  successive  discoveries 
of  his  suitableness,  his  wonderfulness,  his  tenderness,  his 
immensity.  It  is  honey,  so  to  speak,  which  he  now  obtains 
from  Christ,  not  merely  sustenance,  bu1  the  mosl  delicious 
and  delicate  food;  for,  as  the  Saviour  communicates  more 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  41 

and  more  of  his  richness,  exciting  and  gratifying  an  appe- 
tite which  craves  celestial  nutriment,  assuring  him  of  his 
unchangeable  love,  and  allowing  him  foretastes  of  the 
banquet  that  shall  be  spread  at  the  marriage  supper  of  the 
Lamb — indeed,  the  believer  will  often  exclaim  with  David 
of  old,  "  How  sweet  are  thy  words  unto  my  taste !  yea, 
sweeter  than  honey  to  my  mouth." 

And  this  honey  is  from  the  rock,  from  the  clefts  of  the 
rock.  I  must  go,  as  it  were,  to  the  wounds  of  the  Saviour, 
if  I  would  obtain  this  precious  and  ever  multiplying  provi- 
sion. I  must  be  much  with  Him  in  the  garden  and  on  the 
cross  ;  for  it  is  by  studying  his  awful  endurances,  by 
putting,  like  Thomas,  though  with  other  motives  than  this 
doubting  disciple,  "  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails, 
and  thrusting  my  hand  into  his  side,"  that  I  may  hope 
to  gain  acquaintance  with  the  mystery  of  Redemption, 
and  to  find  it  more  animating,  and  more  comforting,  as  I 
find  it  more  majestically,  more  splendidly  obscure.  And 
surely  we  may  confidently  say  that,  if  there  be  a  fulness, 
a  preciousness,  in  the  Redeemer,  which  is  ascertained, 
though  left  unexhausted,  as  his  mighty  sacrifice  is  contem- 
plated, and  the  lessons  which  it  furnishes  are  wrought  into 
the  practice ;  if  there  be  this  reward  to  meek,  consistent, 
persevering  piety,  that  it  finds  deeper  and  deeper  abun- 
dance in  the  Saviour,  a  sweetness  and  a  richness  in  his 
ofiices  which  give  indescribable  emphasis  to  the  scriptural 
expression,  "the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand,  and  the 
altogether  lovely ;"  and  if,  moreover,  it  be  Christ  as  bruised 
and  broken,  pierced  and  riven,  like  the  Vast  mass  of  stone 
on  which  the  thunderbolt  has  fallen,  which  yields  these 
choice  treasures,  oh,  then,  it  must  be  true,  that  the  soul 


42  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  [Lect. 

which  hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness,  is  not  only 
to  "eat  of  the  increase  of  the  fields,"  but  permitted 
to  draw  "honey  from  the  rock,  and  oil  from  the  flinty 
rock." 

But  whilst  this  is  perhaps  the  most  correct  interpret- 
ation of  the  metaphorical  expression,  there  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  not  advance  another  which  is  full  also 
of  important  and  interesting  truth.  There  i>  an  apparent 
opposition,  as  we  have  already  observed,  between  the  pro- 
duction and  the  place  where  produced, — the  production 
honey,  the  place  the  rock.  Honey  is  not  what  you  would 
naturally  look  for  from  a  rock ;  and  therefore  the  promise, 
in  it-  spiritual  import,  may  fairly  be  regarded  as  denoting 
that,  out  of  what  looks  stern,  harsh,  and  insuperable,  God 
will  extract  for  his  peojfle,  not  only  what  shall  nourish 
them,  but  what  shall  be  sweet  to  their  taste.  This  idea  is 
put  yet  more  strongly  in  the  concluding  words  of  the  text, 
"oil  out  of  the  flinty  rock;"  the  addition  of  the  word 
"flinty"  giving  a  stronger  image  of  ruggedness,  and  there- 
fore making  the  place  less  promising  for  any  choice  and 
delicate  product. 

And  what  is  denoted  by  the  metaphor,  when  thus  in- 
terpreted or  applied,  if  not  that  affliction  is  made  by  God 
to  minister  abundantly  to  the  strength  and  comfort  of  his 
people;  bo  that,  when  brought  by  his  Providence  into 
wild  and  rough  places,  they  are  enabled  to  find  there  even 
choicer  provision  than  in  verdant  and  cultivated  spots) 
We  need  do1  adduce  Lengthened  proof,  thai  the  promise, 
thus  interpreted,  is  verified  to  the  letter  in  the  experience 
of  the  Church.  The  testimony  of  believers  in  everj 
has  been,  thai  the  season  of  affliction  has  proved  a  & 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  43 

of  rich  communication  from  above,  a  season  when  God's 
faithfulness  and  love  have  been  more  realized  than  they 
ever  were  before,  at  which  texts  of  Scripture  have  assumed 
a  new  and  deeper  meaning,  and  truths  that  hitherto  had 
dwelt  only  in  the  head,  have  made  their  way  into  the 
heart,  and  diffused  there  a  peace  passing  all  understanding. 
Ask  the  mourners  of  present  days,  or  ask  the  mourners  of 
past,  and  with  one  voice, — if  indeed  they  have  received 
the  chastisement  as  from  the  hands  of  a  father, — they  will 
assure  you  that  God  has  seemed  to  choose  the  hour  of 
trouble  as  the  hour  in  which  to  give  the  more  penetrating 
assurances  of  the  graciousness  of  his  purposes,  to  elevate 
the  affections  above  transient  and  perishable  things,  and 
not  only  to  centre  them  more  fixedly  on  everlasting  joys, 
but  to  afford  foretastes  of  those  joys,  such  as  were  never 
obtained  whilst  earthly  happiness  was  unbroken  and 
bright.  Then  it  commonly  is,  when  sorrow  after  sorrow 
has  come  upon  the  believer,  and  one  beloved  thing  after  an 
other  has  departed,  that  the  soul  has  the  strongest  sense 
of  the  worth  of  religion,  of  the  superiority  of  the  future 
to  the  present,  of  the  exquisite  adaptation  of  the  Bible  to 
the  wants  of  humanity,  and  of  the  exuberant  consolations 
which  are  laid  up  in  Christ.  The  Christian,  with  whom 
every  thing  goes  smoothly,  and  on  whom  every  thing 
looks  smilingly,  knows  comparatively  but  little  of  what 
God  is,  and  what  the  sympathy  of  the  Saviour  with  those 
whose  nature  He  assumed,  and  whose  iniquities  He  bore. 
His  circumstances  do  not,  as  it  were,  bring  out  the  tender- 
ness of  his  Maker,  nor  put  to  the  proof  the  fellow-feeling 
of  the  Mediator.  There  must  be  darkness  and  dreariness 
for  this.     But  when  the  darkness  and  the  dreariness  come, 


44  HONEY  l  Kom  THE  k<><  k.  [Lect. 

it  is  as  though  God  had  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity 
to  shim-  beautifully  on  the  soul,  ami  Christ  had  reserved 
the  manifestations  of  his  compassionate  care  and 
till  their  want  would  be  most  felt,  and  therefore  also  their 
worth.    We  need  not  enlarge  upon  this. 

The  experience  of  the  righteous  is  so  decisive  in  its 
testimony  to  the  fact  of  affliction  yielding  rich  spiritual 
sustenance,  that  it  were  but  wasting  time  to  employ  it  on 
proof.  Honey  from  the  rock — yea,  the  rock  may  be  that 
which  is  hewn  into  a  Bepulchre,  but  even  then  maj  honey 
be  found  in  its  clefts.  They  who  consign  their  iVi 
their  children,  their  kinsmen,  to  the  grave,  believers  if 
they  be  in  Him  who  is  "the  Resurrection  and  the  I 
"sorrow  not  even  as  others  which  have  no  hope,"  but 
draw  sublime  consolation  from  the  receptacle  in  which 
they  deposit  their  dead.  Never  have  they  bo  much  felt 
the  magnificence  of  the  Mediator's  triumph,  as  in  Burvey- 
fche  triumph  of  death.  The  open<  1  grave  is  to  the 
if  the  Christian  like  an  avenue,  through  which  he  can 
look  into  the  invisible  world,  and  discern  the  stupendous 
results  of  the  victory  won  bj  the  Captain  of  his  salvation. 
And  if  yon  ask  for  an  explanation  of  what  may  often  be 
observed,  that  mourners  Beem  elevated  by  acquaintance 
with  death  and  the  grave,  as  though,  in  scenes  from  which 
nature  recoils,  they  bad  found  the  material  of  high  growth 
in  spiiitual-mindedness,  in  consciousness  of  the  Baving 
power  of  Christ,  in  admiration  of  his  work,  m  anticipation 
of  it-  glorious  consummation  in  their  own  bappj  i  xperi- 
ence,  oh,  there  is  nothing  to  be  -aid  but  thai  it  is  God's 
ordinary  course  to  discover  Himself  mosl  to  his  people, 
where,  on  every  human  calculation,  there  is  Least  to  minis- 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  45 

ter  to  their  joy,  and  thus  to  make  good  the  very  expres- 
sive and  comprehensive  promise  of  their  not  only  eating 
of  the  increase  of  the  fields,  but  of  their  being  made 
"  to  suck  honey  from  the  rock,  and  oil  from  the  flinty  rock." 
Such,  my  brethren,  are  some  of  the  privileges  of  true 
religion.  The  meaning  of  our  text,  as  just  explained  or 
applied,  is  much  the  same  as  that  of  a  passage  in  the 
writings  of  Hosea :  "  Behold,  I  will  allure  her,  and  bring 
her  into  the  wilderness,  and  speak  comfortably  unto  her ; 
and  I  will  give  her  vineyards  from  thence."  The  wilder- 
ness is  not  the  place  where  we  should  naturally  look  for 
vineyards,  no  more  than  is  the  rock  for  honey.  But  God 
promises  vineyards  from  the  wilderness,  and  honey  from 
the  rock — indicating,  under  both  figures,  that  those  dis- 
pensations which  have  in  them  most  of  the  painful  and 
severe,  the  dreariness  of  the  wilderness  and  the  hardness 
of  the  rock,  are  both  designed  and  adapted  to  yield  to 
their  subjects  an  abundance  of  the  very  choicest  of  spir- 
itual provision.  Yea,  you  must  go  to  the  wilderness  for 
vineyards,  and  to  the  rock  for  honey.  Not  that  there  are 
no  vineyards  except  in  the  wilderness,  and  no  stores  of 
honey  except  in  the  rock.  The  vine  will  grow  in  the 
sunny  vale,  and  the  bee  find  and  deposit  her  treasures  in 
the  luxuriant  garden ;  for  religion  is  adapted  as  much  to 
prosperity  as  to  adversity.  But  we  take,  comparatively, 
little  note  of  the  vine  amid  a  hundred  other  tokens  of  fer- 
tility, and  the  honey  is  perhaps  almost  untasted  where 
every  luscious  fruit  is  offering  itself  abundantly.  The 
worth  of  the  vineyard  is  felt,  when  met  with  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  the  honey,  to  be  appreciated,  must  be  found 
in  the  rock. 


4G  EONEY  PROM  THE  ROCK.  [Lect. 

Such,  then,  we  repeat  it,  are  some  of  the  privileges  of 
true  religion.  And  perhaps  even  yet  our  text  may  not 
have  been  fully  expounded.  For  if,  in  it-  primary  appli- 
cation to  the  Jews,  it  denoted  the  sustenance  to  be 
afforded  them  in  Canaan,  as  applied  to  ourselves,  it  may 
relate  to  the  provision  laid  up  for  us  in  Heaven,  of  which 
Canaan  was  the  type.  When  God  shall  have  "made  as 
ride  on  the  high  places  of  the  earth,"  and  exalted  as  to 
his  Kingdom  above,  the  promise  before  as  may  be  always 
receiving  accomplishment.  God  shall  be  always  commu- 
nicating supplies  from  his  own  fulness,  as  age  after  age  of 
expansion  or  enlargement  passes  over  the  redeemed.  And 
these  supplies  may  he  still  supplies  of  honey  from  the 
ruck.  There  will  be  no  exhaustion  of  Christ  and  Redemp- 
tion. Never  shall  glorified  spirits  be  weary  of  searching 
into  the  mysteries  of  grace,  or  leave  those  mysteries  as 
thoroughly  explored.  Keep  up,  if  yon  will,  the  metaphor 
of  our  text,  and  eternity  shall  be  Bpent  in  contemplating 
and  examining  the  Rock  of  ages:  every  momenl  -hall  dis- 
cover a  fresh  cleft — the  clefts  in  this  rock  (most  strange, 
but  most  true)  fitting  it  to  hear  up  the  universe  ;  and 
every  fresh  clefl  yielding  fresh  store  of  honey  to  satisfy 
desires  which  shall  but  grow  with  their  -apply. 

Bu1  we  must  Leave  these  contemplations,  leave  them 
however  with  the  exclamation  of  the  Prophet  an  ex- 
clamation perhaps  l»ut  too  suitable  to  many  aow  present  — 
M  Wherefore  do  ye  Bpend  monej  for  that  which  La  qo1 
bread,  and  your  labour  for   thai    which    satisfieth  not?" 

Think    Dot,  be    aol    SO  vain    as   t<>   think,  that  you  c;m    find 
Satisfaction     ID    any    Unite    good.      Ye    are    not    to    be    BO 

cheated.     Your  souls  are  bo  constituted  thai  thev  can  liml 


II.]  HONEY  FROM  THE  ROCK.  47 

no  resting-place  except  in  God,  nor  that  except  through 
Christ.  Alas  !  "  man  walketk  in  a  vain  shadow,  and  dis- 
quieteth  himself  in  vain."  "  He  feedeth  on  ashes,"  he 
pursueth  shadows,  and,  all  the  while,  there  is  bread  which 
hath  come  down  from  Heaven,  and  everlasting  realities 
solicit  his  acceptance.  Be  admonished,  then,  ye  who  seek 
happiness  in  something  short  of  God,  that  you  seek  what 
is  impossible.  It  is  the  cavity  which  might  hold  a  planet 
seeking  to  be  filled  with  a  sand-grain.  But  look  for  happi- 
ness in  God,  and  look  for  it  through  Christ,  and  God  shall 
make  you  here  "  eat  of  the  increase  of  the  fields,"  for  this 
may  specially  mark  the  believer's  portion  upon  earth ;  and 
hereafter  shall  He  satisfy  you  with  "  honey  from  the 
rock,"  for  this  may  specially  mark  his  portion  through 
Eternity. 


LECTURE   III. 


uJnstrr. 


1  Peter  l  3. 


"  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  wliich  according  to  his  abundant 
mercy  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of  J«.-u?  Christ 
from  the  dead." 

These  are  many  characters  under  which  God  may  1" 
surveyed  by  the  sinful,  bnt  only  oue  under  which  He  may 
be  Burveyed  without  fear.  I  may  think  of  God  as  Crea- 
tor; and  very  coble  is  the  contemplation,  as  immensity, 
with  it-  troop  of  worlds,  opens  itself  before  me,  and  every 
u  here  reveals  the  work  of  one  hand.  I  may  think  of  God 
as  the  moral  Governorof  tlie  Universe, and  then,  again,  it 
is  a  magnificent  contemplation,  that  one  Being  Bhould  be 
sending  out  his  inspections  over  whatsoever  liveth,  and 
that,  neither  overcome  by  magnitude,  nor  perplexed  by 
multiplicity,  II«-  Bhould  note  every  action,  and  register  it 
for  judgment.  Or  I  may  Burvey  God  in  lii-  several  attri- 
butes; I  may  consider  Him  as  omnipotent,  and  marvel  at 
a  power  to  which  there  is  nothing  great,  and  nothing  BmaU  ; 
I  may  regard  Him  as  omniscient,  and  amazemenl  may  well 
;  iss  me,  as  having  uabou1  mj  path  and  aboul  my  bed 
the  ven   Being  who  is  occupying  the  furthesl  corners  of 


EASTER.  49 

infinite  space  ;  I  may  think  of  God  as  just,  for  how  other- 
wise shall  He  judge  the  world  ?  I  may  think  of  Him  as 
holy — the  very  Heavens  are  not  clean  in  his  sight ;  I  may 
think  of  Him  as  benevolent — the  countless  tenantry  of 
earth,  sea,  and  air,  attest  that  his  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works. 

But  what  is  it  to  me,  a  transgressor  from  the  womb, 
that,  as  Creator,  God  has  strewed  immensity  with  his  work- 
manship ?     Can  I  bless  Him  as  Creator,  when  I  may  have 
been  created  only  to  be  miserable  ?     What  is  it  to  me  that 
He  should  sit  as  universal  King,  and  trace  upon  his  book 
all  deeds  and  all  thoughts  ?     Can  I  bless  Him  as  moral 
Governor  when  what  He  observes  of  me  must  all  help  to 
condemn  me  ?     What  is  it  to  me  that  He  is  omnipotent  ? 
Can  I  bless  Him  for  a  power  which  it  is  impossible  to  es- 
cape ?     What  that  He  is  omniscient,  what  that  He  is  just, 
what  that  He  is  holy  ?     Can  I  bless  Him  for  a  knowledge 
which  must  extend  to  my  every  failing,  for  a  justice  which 
must  pledge  Him  to  visit  every  offence,  for  a  holiness  which 
must  cause  Him  to  regard  the  sinful  with  aversion  ?     And 
even  if  I  think  of  Him  as  compassionate,  and  full  of  lov- 
ing-kindness, I  may  indeed  well  bless  Him  and  praise  Him 
for  opening  his  hand,  and  showering  down  upon  me  mer- 
cies.    But  when  I  remember  that  his  love  must  be  limited 
and  regulated  by  other  attributes,  and  that  these  attributes 
are  ranged  against  me  as  a  sinner,  how  am  I  to  bless  Him 
even  as  benevolent,  whilst  I  feel  that  benevolence  is  no 
security  against  my  having  to  endure  everlasting  wretch- 
edness ? 

It  is  thus,  as  we  have  often  found  occasion  to  tell  you, 
that   the    disciples   of  natural  theology   can  see   nothing 


50  EASTER  [Lect. 

divine  in  which  to  take  refuge.  We  are  able,  without  the 
Bible,  to  see  ourselves  lost ;  but,  oh!  take  awaythat  Book, 
and  who  sliall  know  how  he  may  be  saved  I  Thus  crea- 
tion maybe  glorious:  every  star  may  born  with  Deity, 
every  flower  display  his  skill,  every  insect  own  his  care; 
and  God  may  be  wonderful  in  his  every  attribute,  his  per- 
il^ commanding  our  admiration,  each  by  itself  and, 
immeasurably  more,  in  the  harmonious  combination;  bnt 
who,  aevertl  mongst  the  children  of  men,  is  to  arise 

and  call  Him  blessed  ;  who  is  to  regard  Him  without  terror; 
who,  yet  more,  is  to  make  Him  the  object  of  love?  But 
Revelation  has  come  in ;  the  Gospel  has  been  published: 
and  now  there  is  a  character,  under  which  this  great, 
this  awful,  God  maybe'  iewed  with  emotions  of  exultation 
and  thankfulness.  We  cannot  fall  before  Thee,  Father  of 
Heaven  and  earth,  and  call  Thee  blessed,  as  Creator, 
though  thine  hand  reared  the  architecture  of  the  uni- 
•,  and  thy  breath  gave  it  animation.     We  cannot  call 

Thee  blessed,  1 auseof  thy  magnificent  attributes,  bl< 

cnnipotent,  blessed  as  omniscient,  blessed  as  omni- 
present. But,  dust  and  ashes  though  we  be,  conceived  in 
gin, and  shapen  in  iniquity,  deserving  thy  wrath,  and  lying 
justly  und-riliy  heavy  condemnation,  we  can  exclaim,  with 
the  Apostle,  in  our  texfcj  u  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  !         resus  Christ." 

You  may  remember  that  St.  Paul  introduces  his  noble 

half  of  the  Ephesians,  in  the  same  manner  as 

St.  Peter  his  loftj  thanksgiving:  "For  this  cause  I  bowmy 

into  iIm-   Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.71     And 

pose  you  well  convinced,  though  you  cannot 

be  t >ften  reminded,  thai  there  is  1 ther  character  an- 


III.]  EASTER.  51 

der  which  God  can  be  approached  with  hope  by  the  sinful. 
Except  as  we  come  to  Him  through  a  Mediator,  except, 
that  is,  as  we  address  Him  as  "  the  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  we  have  no  plea  to  urge  why  He  should  an- 
swer our  prayers,  or  listen  favourably  to  our  praises.  And 
at  this  most  joyful  season,  we  commemorate  an  event, 
which  is  our  standing  proof  that  He,  who  undertook  the 
office  of  Mediator,  was  sufficient  to  the  mighty  work,  and 
did  indeed  restore  that  access  to  God  which  human  trans- 
gression had  fatally  interrupted.  At  this  season  did  He, 
who  had  assumed  our  nature,  on  purpose  that  He  might 
therein  undergo  the  penalties  provoked  by  our  sins,  and 
render  that  obedience  to  the  law  which  was  required,  but 
hopelessly,  at  our  hands,  come  forth  from  the  grave,  into 
which  He  had  descended  as  our  surety,  not  having  seen 
corruption,  though  He  had  submitted  to  the  original  curse. 
And  the  Apostle,  in  our  text,  would  evidently  refer  to  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus,  as,  in  some  great  sense,  the  cause  of 
whatsoever  spiritual  blessings  are  now  within  our  reach ; 
for  he  commemorates  it  as  having  been  through  this  resur- 
rection that  God  hath  "  begotten  us  again  to  a  lively  hope." 
In  the  succeeding  verses,  indeed,  he  speaks  in  yet  larger 
terms,  declaring  us  begotten,  not  only  to  "  a  lively  hope," 
but  "  to  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that 
fadeth  not  away," — thus  making  our  entrance  into  Heaven 
altogether  dependent  on  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord  ;  so 
that,  if,  in  discoursing  on  our  text,  we  should  take  a  large 
range,  and  gather  within  the  consequences  of  what  the 
Church  has  just  commemorated,  all  our  privileges  as  Chris- 
tians, we  shall  evidently  be  borne  out  by  the  context,  and 
not  overpass  the  meaning  of  St.  Peter. 


52  EASTER.  [Lect. 

We  address  you,  then,  in  the  words  of  the  angels  to  the 
women :  "  Come,  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay."  Come 
and  gaze  on  the  deserted  sepulchre,  as  on  the  scene  where 
your  victory  was  won,  and  your  immortality  secured. 
Come  and  see  whether  results  were  not  effected,  or  conse- 
quences entailed,  through  the  breaking  forth  of  the  Re- 
deemer from  the  tomb,  which  may  well  urge  you  to  chime 
in  with  the  words  of  triumph  which  constitute  our  text. 
We  desire  that  our  Easter  meditation  may  be  animating, 
but  simple;  and  we  think  that  St.  Peter's  anthem — for 
such  it  might  be  called — will  furnish  the  precise  matter 
which  this  double  object  requires.  Let  us  divide  the 
anthem  into  its  component  parts :  there  is  a  thing  done ; 
there  is  the  agency  through  which  it  is  effected ;  there  is 
the  thankfulness  which  it  ought  to  elicit.  The  thing  done, 
is  our  being  begotten  again  to  a  lively  hope  ;  the  airency, 
through  which  it  is  effected,  is  the  resurrection  of  Christ  ; 
and  when  these  have  been  briefly  considered,  we  shall  be 
in  a  position  to  inquire,  whether  there  be  not  abundnnt 
cause  to  exclaim,  with  St.  Peter,  "Blessed  be  the  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  !" 

Now  we  >liall  not  insist  at  any  length  on  the  expression 
"begotten  again,"  which  is  here  used  by  St.  Peter.  It  is 
mnch  the  same  with  that  employed  by  onr  Lord  in  his 
urse  with  Nicodemus,  when  He  asserted  the  necessity 
of  a  new  birth,  «>r  a  birth  from  above,  in  order  to  an  en- 
trance  into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  We  would  only 
desire  to  impress  on  every  one  present,  that  to  be  truly 

religious,  implies  a  moral  i-hau-v  too   uivat    t<>    1».-   ell' 

by    ourselves;    bul   hardly    to   be   mistaken,    vrhen   once 
wronghl  by  God.     It  mus1  '"•  great,  too  greal   for  human 


in.]  EASTER.  53 

power,  if  it  can  only  be  described  as  being  "begotten 
again."  But  if  thus  great,  it  must  be  perceptible ;  if  it 
may  be  wrought  in  secrecy,  it  must,  when  wrought,  be- 
come palpable.  And  ye  must  seek  the  evidence  of  your 
being  "  new  creatures,"  in  the  bent  of  your  desires,  it  the 
tenor  of  your  pursuits,  in  the  objects  of  your  affections ; 
not  in  your  external  privileges,  and  not  in  your  acquaint- 
ance with  the  scheme  and  doctrines  of  Christianity.  The 
grand  design  of  Christianity,  so  far  as  you  are  personally 
concerned,  is  the  making  you  "  new  creatures ;"  and  so 
long  as  this  great  design  is  not  wrought  out  in  you,  you 
may  be  familiar  with  the  bearings  of  the  Gospel,  and 
professed  admirers  of  its  beauties  ;  but  you  derive  nothing 
from  your  knowledge,  but  increased  condemnation,  a  con- 
demnation which  you  could  not  have  incurred,  had  you 
been  born  in  a  heathen  land,  or  never  grafted  into  a 
Christian  Church. 

But  we  wish  now  principally  to  insist  on  its  being  "  a 
lively  hope"  to  which  you  are  begotten,  and  to  treat  of 
the  agency,  or  instrumentality,  through  which,  according 
to  St.  Peter,  this  new  creation  is  effected  by  God.  We 
therefore  turn  at  once  to  the  event  which  the  Church  at 
this  time  commemorates,  and  will  examine  how  the  resur- 
rection of  Christ  stands  associated  with  the  change  on 
which  we  have  spoken.  You  will  observe  at  once  that 
the  resurrection  of  our  Lord  must  have  been  regarded  by 
the  Apostle  as  giving,  in  some  sense,  all  its  efficacy  to  the 
Mediatorial  work,  seeing  that  he  ascribes  to  this  single 
event  what  we  are  wont  to  ascribe  to  the  whole  process  of 
redemption.  We  regard  it,  and  that,  too,  most  justly,  as 
owing  exclusively  to  the  interference  of  Christ,   to   his 


54  EASTER.  [Lect. 

assuming  human  nature,  and  working  out  in  that  nature 
our  reconciliation  to  God,  that  we  i  -  from  a  position 

of  death  to  a  position  of  life,  and  be  received  into  that 
family  firom  which  we  were  banished  by  -in.  It  i-  to  no 
solitary  part  of  tin-  Mediatorial  work,  but  to  that  work  as 
a  whole,  that  we  trace  the  mighty  alt. -ration  in  the  condi- 
tion  of  human  kind, — an  alteration  such,  that  whereas, 
independently  on  the  suretyship  of  Christ,  there  remained 
nothing  for  tin-  race  but  the  enduring,  through  eternity, 
the  deserts  of  it-  Bins,  in  and  through  that  suretyship 
pardon  lias  been  made  possible  to  all,  yea,  re-admission 
t<>  the  happiness,  ami  to  more  than  tin-  happiness,  which 
Adam  forfeited  for  himself  ami  hi-  children.     And,  there- 

if  v.r  were  called  to  define  the  instrumentality, 
through  which  the  Creator  has  rekindled  the  quenched 

of  this  creation,  or  revivified  fallen  humanity,  we 
should  assign  the  whole  Bcheme  of  vicarious  substitution, 
and  endeavour  to  explain  firom  it.  how  God  can  be  just, 
ami  yet  a  justifier  of  sinners.  How,  then,  i-  it  that  St. 
Peter,  in  stating  the  instrumentality  which  <Jo<l  has  em- 
ployed, should  confine  himself  altogethei  to  the  resurrec- 
tion  of  Christ?  for  it  i-  exclusively  to  this  that  lie 
attributes  regeneration,  tin-  being  "begotten  again  to  a 
lively  hope." 

There  is  bul  litt!"  difficulty  in  answering  this  question. 
You  musf  all  1m>  aware,  thai,  so  long  a-  Chrisl  lay  in  the 
grave,  no  evidence  was  afforded  that  hi-  sacrifice  had 
accepted.  lie  was  still  under  tin-  power  of  the  curse, 
detained  a-  a  prisoner,  so  that  tin*  curse  was  not  ,  \- 
hausted,  nor  "captivity  led  captive."  When,  however, 
rth  from  the  grave  a  conqueror  over  death, 


III.]  EASTER.  55 

then  was  there  given  incontestable  proof  that  justice  had 
no  further  claim  upon  man,  because  it  had  none  upon  his 
surety.  The  resurrection  proclaimed  to  the  universe,  that 
the  oblation  made  on  Calvary,  had  sufficed  to  the  taking 
away  sin,  and  that,  in  thorough  consistence  with  every 
attribute,  God  might  now  extend  mercy  to  a  race  of 
transgressors.  It  is  not  that  the  virtue  lay  in  the  resur- 
rection, rather  than  in  the  sacrifice ;  but  that  the  resur- 
rection proved  the  virtue  of  the  sacrifice,  attested  its 
acceptance,  and  so  made  a  clear  way  for  the  application 
of  its  merits.  It  may  therefore,  with  the  strictest  truth, 
be  affirmed  that  it  was  in  raising  his  Son  from  the  dead, 
that  God  restored  hope  to  this  fallen  creation.  By  that 
act  He  declared  that  He  had  reconciled  the  world  unto 
Himself,  and  so  caused  a  new  era  to  break  on  mankind. 
Neither  is  this  all :  for  we  learn  unequivocally  from  Scrip- 
ture that,  had  not  Christ  risen  and  ascended,  the  Holy 
Spirit  would  never  have  come  down  to  renew  the  face  of 
the  earth.  This  Spirit  was  to  descend  as  one  of  the 
results  of  Christ's  Mediation:  his  manifold  gifts  were  to 
be  vouchsafed  as  the  purchase  of  the  Redeemer's  death 
and  passion,  and  dispensed  by  that  Redeemer,  exalted  to 
the  right  hand  of  God.  It' might  then  be  accurately  said, 
that  through  Christ's  resurrection  was  there  secured  to 
mankind  that  agency  through  which  alone  the  lost  image 
of  God  can  be  re-impressed  on  the  soul,  and  any  thing  of 
moral  renewal  pervade  the  globe  which  sin  has  profaned. 
And  if  it  were  through  the  raising  of  his  Son  from  the 
dead,  that  God  stood  ready  to  communicate  the  reno- 
vating influences  of  his  Spirit,  influences,  without  which 
there  could  be  no  renewal,  but  through  which  the  waste 


56  EASTEit.  [Lect. 

and  desert  places  may  blossom  as  the  rose,  it  follows,  with 
the  greatest  precision,  that  God  may  be  said  to  have 
begotten  us  again  "through  the  resurrection  of  Christ." 
The  resurrection  of  Christ  obtained  for  us,  and  secured 
to  us,  the  influences  of  the  regenerating  agent ;  and  there- 
fore it  may  literally  be  affirmed,  that  through  this  resur- 
rection we  are  born  anew  of  God. 

Neither  do  we  think  it  needful,  in  contemplating  the 
results,  or  rather  the  efficacies  of  the  resurrection,  to  limit 
the  expression,  "  begotten  again,"  to  those  cases  of  renewal 
which  it  ordinarily  denotes  in  theological  language.  By 
speaking  of  our  being  begotten  again  to  "  a  lively,"  or  a 
living,  "  hope,"  the  Apostle  would  seem  to  indicate  some- 
thing of  an  universal  change  as  having  passed,  through 
Christ's  resurrection,  over  this  earth  and  its  inhabitants. 
And  such  a  change  did  actually  pass :  there  was  sub- 
stituted a  living  hope  for  a  dead,  throughout  every  depart- 
ment of  this  creation,  amongst  its  irrational  as  well  as  its 
rational  tenants.  It  was  not  that  heretofore  there  had 
been  no  hope  whatever :  for  man  is  so  constituted  that  he 
cannot  live  without  hope  :  he  must  follow  a  meteor,  when 
there  is  no  star  on  the  firmament.  There  was  hope 
amongst  men,  even  when  truth  had  almost  departed,  and 
ignorance  of  God  pressed  heavily  on  all  countries  and 
classes.  There  was  a  hope  that  Deity  might  be  pro- 
pitiated ;  that,  in  some  better  world,  the  disorders  of  the 
present  might  be  rectified,  and  goodness  gain  the  ascend- 
ency for  which  here  it  had  struggled  in  vain.  Reason  did 
something,  in  the  midst  of  the  ponderous  night,  to  keep 
men  from  quite  parting  with  the  expectation  of  immortal- 
ity, and,  combining  the  teachings  of  conscience  with  the 


III.]  EASTER.  57 

lingerings  of  tradition,  caused  a  spectre  of  hope — for  in- 
deed it  was  never  more  substantial — to  flit  to  and  fro  amid 
the  cloud  and  the  tumult.  Yes,  a  spectre  of  hope  ;  a  dead 
thing;  though,  at  times,  it  appeared  amongst  the  living, 
and  wore  something  of  the  hue  which  had  belonged  to  the 
fresh  and  beautiful  visitant,  that  had  gladdened  the  earth 
whilst  yet  unstained  by  sin.  But  they  who  followed  this 
spectre  did  but  find  themselves  conducted  into  deeper 
darkness,  and  deserted  where  they  most  needed  guidance. 
The  spectre,  which,  to  a  superficial  glance,  presented  all 
the  brightness  and  motion  of  life,  had  only  to  be  gazed  on 
intently,  or  through  the  glasses  of  patient  meditation,  and 
it  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  till  at  last  it  faded  into  air,  and 
left  the  observer  in  increased  gloom  and  perplexity.  A 
living  hope,  a  hope  that  should  not  merely  perform  some 
of  the  actions,  but  possess  all  the  energies  of  life,  that 
should  not  merely  beckon  onwards,  but  wait  to  be  exam- 
ined and  handled — this  never  sprang  from  the  reveries  of 
philosophers,  but  eluded  the  searchings  of  those  who 
laboured  most  bravely  to  open  up  a  path  to  happiness 
hereafter.  This  hope,  this  living  hope,  paradoxical  as  it 
may  sound,  could  only  be  generated  through  death,  and 
spring  only  from  the  grave.  It  required,  in  order  to  its 
creation,  in  order  to  its  existence,  that  a  Mediator  should 
die,  and,  by  dying,  sweep  away  the  entailments  of  disobe- 
dience. And  when,  therefore,  the  vast  debt  was  paid,  and 
each  of  those  obstacles  to  our  forgiveness  removed,  which 
natural  theology  had  in  vain  striven  to  displace,  the 
spectral  thing  vanished,  and  the  substantial  arose.  The 
Redeemer  burst  the  sepulchre  ;  and  hope,  living  hope, 
which  had  been  entombed  there  since  the  fall,  and  must 


58  EASTER.  [Lect. 

have  remained  there,  had  not  the  mighty  one  entered  to 
dissolve  the  spell,  sprang  gloriously  forth,  and  gleamed 
and  glanced  over  the  long-darkened  earth. 

I  know  not  what  there  was  into  which  this  living  hope 
did  not  enter.  The  inanimate  creation  confessed  its  pres- 
ence, and  has  ever  since  expected  a  day  when  new 
heavens,  and  a  new  earth,  shall  succeed  into  the  place 
of  the  old,  and  a  richer  than  the  lost  loveliness  mantle 
all  the  scene  of  human  habitation.  The  dust  of  buried 
generations  might  have  been  said  to  own  its  revival ;  for 
henceforward  the  dead  awaited  the  sound  of  a  trumpet, 
at  which  they  must  arise  and  put  on  incorruption.  And 
the  soul  of  man,  heretofore  perplexed  by  shadows,  and 
beguiled  by  meteors,  felt  that  the  way  into  the  holiest 
was  indeed  re-opened  ;  and  that,  notwithstanding  the 
many  offences  which  had  seemed  to  preclude  it  from  fel- 
lowship with  God,  there  were  provided  for  it  wings  on 
which  it  might  soar,  and  a  plea  which  would  be  sure  to 
prevail  to  the  obtaining  for  it  entrance  into  the  heavenly 
city.  Was  it  not  then  hope,  living  hope,  which  followed 
the  Eedeemer  as  He  brake  away  from  death,  which  sprang 
with  Him  from  the  sepulchre,  as  though  it  had  waited 
that  the  stone  should  be  riven,  in  order  that  it  might 
emerge  and  re-visit  the  earth?  We  have  confessed  al- 
ready that  there  was  a  spectre  of  hope,  even  when  there 
was  no  knowledge  of  Christ,  a  lingering  form  which 
haunted  the  globe,  and  cheated  the  weary  and  the  lost. 
But  hope  itself  was  in  the  grave :  the  spectre  is  of  the 
dead,  not  of  the  living  :  who  shall  lay  the  spectre,  by  re- 
viving the  departed?  This,  again  and  again  be  it  said, 
was  the  work  of  the  Mediator  :  He  scattered  the  shadows 


[II.]  EASTER.  59 

by  revealing  the  substance.  His  was  the  office,  his  the 
achievement,  of  destroying  the  works  of  the  devil,  and  re- 
instating the  earth  in  the  place  whence  it  fell.  What  He 
undertook,  He  accomplished:  his  resurrection  both  com- 
pleted and  attested  the  accomplishment :  but,  nevertheless, 
it  was  living  hope,  rather  than  exterminated  evil,  which 
was  the  immediate  result  and  trophy  of  his  victory.  He 
did  not  at  once  annihilate  death,  though  we  know  Him  to 
have  abolished  it :  He  did  not  sweep  away  sin,  He  did  not 
banish  sorrow.  To  a  superficial  observer,  the  resurrection 
misrht  seem  to  have  wrought  no  difference  in  the  face  of  this 
creation,  the  same  dark  trains  of  guilt  and  grief  appearing 
to  traverse  it  in  undiminished  force.  But  the  alteration 
was  wrought  in  hope :  hope  started  from  the  dust,  put  on 
her  beautiful  garments,  spake  to  the  prostrate,  and  pointed 
them  to  days  of  glory  and  triumph.  It  may  be  that 
death  yet  reigns  :  but  hope,  standing  by  the  tomb  of  the 
Redeemer,  can  smile  even  at  death,  and  be  most  alive  in 
the  midst  of  dissolution.  "  Iniquities  prevail  against  us ;" 
but  hope,  resting  on  the  finished  work  of  mediation,  anti- 
cipates their  forgiveness,  and  full  deliverance  from  their 
power.  The  traces  of  devastation  are  yet  around  us  :  the 
whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain :  tears  are 
still  shed,  hearts  are  still  wrung :  but  hope,  hope  that  can- 
not make  ashamed,  because  its  life  is  from  Him  whose 
word  cannot  fail,  hope  walks  amid  the  wide  desolation ; 
peoples  it  with  all  the  imagery  of  restitution  and  glad- 
ness ;  and  in  the  magnificence  of  a  firmament,  of  which 
the  Lord  God  Almighty  Himself  shall  be  the  sun,  and  in 
the  splendours  of  an  inheritance  into  which  shall  enter 
nothing  that  defileth,  beholds  exultingly  the  incontestable 


60  EASTER.  [Lect 

evidences   of   the  complete   spoiling   of  principality  and 
power. 

This,  this,  it  is,  which  was  instantly  effected  through 
the  resurrection  of  Christ:  other  results  are  yet  future: 
but  hope  rose  with  Him  from  the  tomb,  and  remained, 
when  He  ascended,  to  animate  those  whose  path  is  through 
misery,  and  whose  struggle  with  corruption.  And  we 
may  well,  therefore,  give  our  assent  to  the  accuracy  of  the 
representation  contained  in  our  text.  Setting  aside,  for  a 
moment,  the  peculiar  sense  in  which  the  being  "  begotten 
again"  was  to  be  taken  with  respect  individually  to  be- 
lievers, who  will  not  allow  that  the  whole  earth  leapt, 
as  it  were,  into  a  new  existence,  an  existence  of  hope,  of 
living  hope,  when  the  Mediator,  in  the  strength  of  his 
divinity,  returned  from  the  dead  ?  I  could  imagine  the 
step  of  the  risen  Conqueror  heard  in  the  solitude,  heard  in 
the  crowd — in  the  homes  of  the  living,  and  among  the 
silences  of  the  dead — by  things  animate  and  things  inani- 
mate— but  every  where  wakening  hope,  as  though  the 
mysterious  sound  broke  a  fatal  spell,  and  freed  the  en- 
thralled spirit.  And  I  could  suppose  our  text  uttered  by 
as  many,  and  as  varied,  voices  as  pealed  on  the  ear  of  St. 
John,  when  there  rose  the  universal  ascription  of  honour 
to  God  and  the  Lamb — "  every  creature  which  is  in 
Heaven,  and  on  the  earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such 
as  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that  are  in  them,"  joining  in 
the  confession,  that  they  had  been  "begotten  again  to  a' 
lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  from  the 
dead." 

And,  surely,  after  having  thus  engaged  you  with  proof, 
that  whatever  of  regeneration  has  yet  passed  over  the 


III.]  EASTER.  61 

earth,  and  whatever  may  be  looked  for  in  future  days, 
ought  distinctly  to  be  traced  to  the  resurrection  of  Christ 
as  a  cause,  we  need  not  adduce  lengthened  argument  to 
show  that  we  have  reasons,  at  Easter,  for  exclaiming  with 
the  Apostle,  "  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  Who  that  thinks  on  the  provision  which 
has  been  made  for  the  opening  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven 
to  all  believers,  for  the  restoration  of  the  lost  glories  of 
this  earth,  for  the  extirpation  of  evil  from  the  universe, 
for  the  destruction  of  death  by  a  general  resurrection,  and 
refers  all  this,  as  it  ought  to  be  referred,  exclusively  to  the 
fact,  that,  having  died  unto  sin  once,  Christ  is  alive  for 
evermore — can  require  to  be  urged  to  join  in  an  anthem, 
whose  chorus  shall  be,  "  The  Lord  is  risen,  the  Lord  is 
risen  indeed  ?" 

But  let  us  select  one  blessing  from  the  throng,  that 
which  Easter  should  specially  commend  to  our  thoughts ; 
and  let  us  inquire  whether  any  will  keep  silence,  when 
praise  is  being  woven,  because  there  shall  yet  be  brought 
to  pass  the  saying  that  is  written,  "  Death  is  swallowed  up 
in  victory  ?"  We  are  not  sure  whether  this  great  article 
of  Christian  faith,  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  obtains  its 
due  share  of  attention  and  affection,  even  amongst  those 
who  "love  the  Lord  Jesus  in  sincerity."  We  rather  think 
that  there  are  many,  who,  wearied  with  long  struggle  with 
the  corruptions  of  the  flesh,  and  accustomed  to  regard  and 
find  the  body  as  nothing  but  an  incumbrance  in  the  highest 
duties  of  religion,  derive  scarcely  any  delight  from  antici- 
pating the  Resurrection,  and  would  hardly  be  conscious  of 
much  change  in  their  hopes  and  expectations,  were  there  to 
come  a  sudden  intimation  that  no  trumpet  will  sound  to 


62  EASTER.  [Lect. 

wake  up  the  dead.  There  is  a  sort  of  an  unacknowledged, 
but  prevalent  feeling,  as  though  there  were  a  necessary- 
opposition  between  what  is  material  and  what  spiritual, 
and  as  though,  in  getting  quit  of  the  body,  we  should 
become  fitted  for  the  purest  and  most  refined  happiness. 
And,  of  course,  the  question  is  not  whether  God,  if  He 
pleased,  might  make  the  soul,  in  her  separation  from  the 
body,  the  recipient  of  a  very  lofty  and  exquisite  felicity. 
We  may  admit  without  detriment,  that  the  soul  might  be 
unspeakably  happy,  were  God  pleased  that  it  should  remain, 
throughout  eternity,  dissevered  from  the  body  ;  so  that, 
even  were  there  no  Resurrection,  a  Christian  might  confi- 
dently anticipate  a  portion  of  vast  glory  and  blessedness. 
There  is,  however,  all  the  difference  between  the  believing 
that  God  could  make  the  soul  ineffably  happy,  if  it  pleased 
Him  to  leave  the  body  for  ever  in  the  grave,  and  the  sep- 
arating, in  any  measure,  the  soul  from  the  body  in  our  ex- 
pectations of  happiness,  now  that  God  hath  appointed  and 
revealed  their  lasting  re-union.  The  question  is  not,  whether 
the  soul  might  be  happy  without  the  body:  the  ascer- 
tained fact  is,  that  the  soul  is  to  be  united  to  the  body ; 
and  that,  wmatever  its  enjoyments  and  occupations  during 
the  season  of  separation,  the  full  glories  and  felicities  of 
the  justified  will  not  be  attained  until  that  which  is  sown 
in  corruption  shall  have  been  raised  in  incorruption.  And, 
therefore,  if  wre  attach  little  worth  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
Resurrection ;  if,  regarding  the  body  as  a  clog,  we  fix 
our  thoughts  on  a  purely  spiritual  happiness — purely 
spiritual  in  the  sense  of  having  no  alliance  with  what  is 
material — it  is  manifest  that  we  are  but  substituting  our 
own  fancies  for  the  truths  of  Revelation. 


III.]  EASTER.  63 

We  do  not  then  attempt,  by  any  abstract  reasoning,  to 
prove  to  you  the  importance  of  the  resurrection  of  the 
body ;  we  fasten  you  to  the  fact,  that  the  body  is  to  be 
glorified  as  well  as  the  soul,  that  the  happiness  of  the  soul 
will  be  incomplete,  until  re-united  to  the  body ;  and  from 
this  we  require  you  to  learn,  that  you  have  an  incalculable 
interest  in  the  great  truth  that  the  dead  shall  live  again ; 
and  that  it  is  no  mere  speculation,  which  might  safely  be 
spared  from  your  creeds.  And  so  soon  -as  you  thus  give 
its  due  place  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  regard 
matter  as  well  as  spirit  as  redeemed  by  the  Saviour,  you 
will '  rise  in  your  estimate  of  "  the  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle,"  and  shun  the  employing  it  to  base  and  low 
ends.  The  body  cannot  be  an  ignoble  thing,  which  it  is 
emancipation  to  quit,  and  a  privilege  to  throw  aside,  if  the 
Lord  of  glory  shed  blood  for  its  redemption,  and  if  He 
now  hold  the  keys  of  Hades  and  of  death,  that  He  may 
guard  every  atom  of  its  dust,  when  dissolved,  and  broken 
up  through  separation  from  the  soul.  And  I  can  join  in 
the  exclamation  of  our  text,  and  pronounce,  "Blessed  be 
the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  when  it 
is  simply  our  own  resurrection  which  is  regarded  as  the 
regeneration  wrought  through  the  Mediator's.  I  can  bless 
God  that  this  mortal  is  to  put  on  immortality.  I  know 
not  of  what  a  disembodied  soul  may  be  capable:  but  I 
know,  that,  as  originally  created  in  the  image  of  his 
Maker,  man  was  a  compound  being,  matter  and  spirit ; 
and  I  conclude  it,  therefore,  essential  to  his  perfection, 
that  he  should  be  this  compound  through  eternity.  And 
this  makes  me  thankful  that  the  body  is  to  rise :  without 
this,  the  second  Adam  cannot  have  won  for  me  all  that 


64  EASTER.  [Lect. 

the  first  Adam  lost.  I  am  thankful  moreover  for  the 
Resurrection,  because,  of  all  motives  to  the  subduing  and 
keeping  under  the  body,  and  to  the  presenting  it  a  living 
sacrifice  unto  God,  there  is  none  comparable,  in  its  intense- 
ness,  to  that  derived  from  its  future  appointments.  It 
puts  a  sort  of  sacredness  on  the  body,  to  regard  it  as 
destined,  with  the  soul,  to  the  spiritualities  of  eternity,  not 
to  be  thrown  aside,  when  its  inhabitant  has  broken  away, 
and  soared  to  a  purer  land,  but  only  to  be  purified,  that 
it  may  again  receive  that  inhabitant,  and  be  its  dwelling- 
place  in  the  burning  light  of  God's  presence. 

Not,  we  say,  to  be  thrown  aside.  It  is  very  easy,  and 
very  specious,  to  enlarge  on  the  folly  of  paying  any 
honour  to  that  which  must  become  the  prey  of  the  worm, 
of  conveying,  with  something  of  state,  to  the  grave  that 
which  is  turning  into  a  mass  of  corruption,  and  then 
perhaps  erecting  a  monument  to  mark  the  resting-place 
of  a  certain  portion  of  dust.  If  we  knew  nothing  of  a 
Resurrection,  if  we  believed  that  the  body  was  to  be 
given  over  for  ever  to  corruption,  we  might  come  to 
regard  it  as  a  worthless  and  dishonoured  thing,  and  to 
consider  that  the  showing  it  any  respect,  in  its  lifelessness 
and  loathsomeness,  were  unworthy  of  the  rational  and 
degrading  to  the  religious.  But  not  whilst  we  believe 
in  the  s;eneral  Easter  of  this  creation.  Not  whilst  we 
believe  that  the  grave  is  but  a  temporary  habitation, 
and  that  what  is  sown  a  natural  body  is  to  be  raised  a 
spiritual.  The  funeral  ceremony  attests  and  does  homage 
to  the  doctrine  of  the  Resurrection.  It  is  not  in  honour 
of  the  body,  as  mouldering  into  dust,  that  a  decent  state 
should  attend  its  interment ;  but  in  honour  of  the  body,  as 


HI.]  EASTER.  65 

destined  to  come  forth  gloriously  and  indissolubly  recon- 
structed. I  have  no  affection  for  the  tablet  and  the 
monument,  if  it  were  only  to  mark  where  the  foul  worm 
hath  battened :  but  I  look  with  pleasure  on  the  recording 
marble,  as  indicating  a  spot  where  the  trumpet  of  the 
Archangel  shall  cause  a  sudden  and  mysterious  stir,  and 
Christ  win  a  triumph  as  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life. 
And  we  again  say  that  the  thought  of  what  the  body  is 
reserved  for  should  lead  to  our  giving  due  honour  to  the 
body,  and  our  shunning  the  employing  its  members  as 
instruments  of  unrighteousness.  I  should  feel  an  awe  on 
entering  a  Temple  which  might  be  shattered  and  soiled, 
but  of  which  I  knew,  that,  through  a  divine  power,  it  was 
to  be  splendidly  rebuilded,  and  made  as  a  shrine  in  whose 
depths  the  very  Deity  would  abide.  I  could  not  turn 
that  Temple  to  common  uses  :  I  could  desecrate  it  neither 
to  the  businesses  nor  the  revelries  of  life ;  but,  as  I  passed 
along  its  ruined  arches,  or  marked  how  its  columns  were 
stained,  I  should  seem  to  hear  the  approachings  of  the 
Divinity,  as  He  came  to  possess  and  preside ;  and  I  should 
be  too  full  of  reverential  dread  to  do  aught  that  might 
defile  a  structure  that  was  yet  to  be  so  hallowed.  The 
body  is  such  a  Temple — shattered,  if  you  will ;  soiled,  if 
you  will — but  destined  to  be  rebuilded,  and  visibly  occu- 
pied by  Godhead.  Shall  I  then  pollute  it?  Shall  I  throng 
its  courts  with  the  sheep  and  the  oxen  ?  Shall  I  burn  on 
its  altars  the  fires  of  base  passion  ?  Oh,  the  man,  whose 
thoughts  are  much  on  the  Resurrection  of  the  body,  will 
be  also  the  man  whose  efforts  are  much  towards  the  sub- 
jugation of  the  body ;  and  if  it  were  only,  that,  from 
knowing  to  what  flesh  is  appointed,  he  feels  nerved  to  the 


66  EASTER.  [Lect. 

wrestling  with  those  lusts  which  war  against  the  soul,  he 
will  gladly  exclaim  with  St.  Peter,  contemplating  his  own 
Resurrection  as  insured  by  that  of  Christ,  "  Blessed  be  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Blessed  indeed,  for  ever  blessed  be  God,  that  He  hath 
not  left  us  in  our  low  estate,  but  hath  raised  up  a  horn  of 
Salvation  for  us  in  the  house  of  his  servant  David. 
Blessed,  for  ever  blessed,  be  God  for  the  Gospel  of  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ.  But  let  us  see  to  it  that  we  have  scrip- 
tural warrant  for  appropriating  to  ourselves  the  provisions 
and  promises  of  this  Gospel.  Let  us  diligently  remember, 
according  to  the  inference  which  we  deduced  from  the 
peculiar  phraseology  of  our  text,  that  a  great  and  vital 
change  must  pass  over  the  man  who  is  truly  a  believer  in 
Christ.  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature." 
How  striking  is  that  expression  of  our  Lord  to  Nicodemus, 
"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh,  and  that  which 
is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit."  It  is  as  much  as  to  affirm 
that  man  is  all  flesh  through  his  first  birth,  and  all  spirit 
through  his  second.  There  is  no  distinction  allowed  be- 
tween soul  and  body;  the  soul  is  spoken  of,  in  the  one 
case,  as  assimilated  to  the  body,  and  therefore  fleshly ;  the 
body,  in  the  other  case,  as  assimilated  to  the  soul,  and 
therefore  spiritual.  We  can  have  very  little  difficulty  in 
assenting  to  the  accuracy  of  the  first  representation ;  but 
the  best  amongst  us  may  well  be  staggered  by  the  second. 
There  is  no  debate  that  the  human  soul  becomes,  through 
transgression,  of  apparently  the  same  nature  with  the 
body,  earthly  in  its  desires  and  attachments  ;  so  that,  not- 
withstanding its  ethereal  origin  and  properties,  it  might  be 
designated  fleshly.     But,  alas  !  how  little  is  there  amongst 


III.]  EASTER.  67 

Christians,  from  which  we  could  infer,  that  if,  in  the  natural 
man,  the  body  has  dragged  down  the  soul  to  the  level  of 
the  flesh,  in  the  renewed  man,  the  soul  has  elevated  the 
body  to  the  level  of  spirit.  How  few  have  the  body  in 
such  subjection  to  the  soul,  that  the  dominant  principle  is 
not  carnal,  but  spiritual.  Yet  it  is  evident  from  the  strik- 
ing words  which  we  have  quoted  from  the  discourse  of  our 
Lord,  that  the  regeneration  of  our  nature  ought  to  effectu- 
ate this  result,  or  be  evidenced  by  it ;  and  that  we  stop 
short  of  what  new  birth  is  designed  to  produce,  so  long  as 
the  soul  obtains  not  the  ascendency,  and  makes  not  the 
body  its  minister  and  auxiliary. 

Let  us  see  to  it,  if  we  profess  ourselves  true  disciples  of 
Christ,  that  we  labour  incessantly  as  showing  forth  in  the 
life  this  renewal  of  our  nature.  May  the  words,  which 
are  addressed  to  you  in  this  place,  stimulate  you  to  the 
righteous  endeavour.  We  preach,  and  you  listen,  for  Eter- 
nity. Oh  then,  with  what  faithfulness  should  the  minister 
speak,  and  with  what  meekness  should  the  hearer  receive, 
the  engrafted  word.  We  can  but  add  an  earnest  prayer, 
that  the  Lord  of  all  power  and  might,  without  whom 
nothing  is  strong,  nothing  is  holy,  would  give  his  blessing 
with  his  Gospel  as  here  feebly,  but  affectionately,  uttered. 
We  know  that  nothing  is  to  be  done  but  through  the  influ- 
ence of  God's  Spirit.  Men  are  not  to  be  converted,  and, 
when  converted,  not  confirmed  and  edified,  through  pro- 
cesses of  argument  or  laboured  appeals.  The  work  must 
be  of  God;  through  God,  and  through  Him  alone,  are  our 
weapons  mighty  to  the  casting  down  of  strong-holds.  But 
we  may  expect  his  blessing,  if  you  on  your  part,  and  I  on 
mine,  seek  it  by  diligent  prayer.     And  having  this  blessing, 


gg  EASTER. 

we  may  look  for  great  things.  When  the  last,  the  great 
Easter-day  breaks  on  this  creation,  and  thousands  are  being 
gathered  to  sing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb,  there 
may  be  some  who,  as  they  join  the  mighty  orchestra,  shall 
remember  thankfully  the  Gospel  as  heard  in  this  place,  and 
bless  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  for 
having  here  begotten  them  again  to  a  lively  hope. 


LECTURE  IV. 


'tyt  Wlkm  in  (Dnrstlf. 


1  John  v.  10. 

"  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in  himself." 

A  Christian  minister  should  often  press  upon  his  hearers 
the  difference  between  historical  and  saving  faith,  and  en- 
treat them  to  take  heed  lest,  to  the  ruin  of  the  soul,  they 
confound  things  which  are  so  essentially  distinct.  We 
may  wonder  indeed  that  the  confusion  should  be  made ; 
for  it  is  quite  clear  that  historical  faith  is,  in  no  sense,  influ- 
ential ;  and  a  faith  which  is  not  influential,  can  hardly  be 
suspected  of  being  saving.  No  man's  conduct,  for  ex- 
ample, is  at  all  affected  by  his  belief  in  the  actions  which 
are  ascribed  to  Julius  Caesar.  If  a  new  history  of  ancient 
days  is  put  into  his  hands,  he  may  store  his  mind  with 
fresh  incidents,  but  not  his  heart  with  fresh  motives :  he 
will  never  dream  of  giving  to  his  faith  in  the  deatli  of 
some  great  leader  or  philosopher  of  antiquity,  any  uniform 
dominion  over  his  actions  and  conversation.  He  has  no 
personal  concern  with  the  worthies  of  whom  he  reads: 
they  are  nothing  to  him,  and  he  is  nothing  to  them, 
except  as  the  possession  of  a  common  nature  makes  a  link 


70  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

of  association.  The  chasm  of  many  centuries  separates 
between  himself  and  the  heroes  or  sages  of  olden  times ; 
and  though  this  chasm  may  for  a  while  be  overleaped, 
whilst  he  ponders  their  achievements,  or  studies  their 
writings,  yet  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the  bringing  down 
antiquity  into  present  being,  annihilating  the  interval  of 
days,  and  walking  side  by  side  with  the  dead  through 
existing  scenes  and  occupations. 

And  you  will  hardly  require  proof,  that  faith  of  this 
kind  is  not  the  faith  which  we  are  called  on  to  put  in  the 
Gospel  of  Christ.  If  the  Bible  be  dealt  with  just  as  we 
deal  with  the  volumes  of  history,  satisfying  ourselves  first, 
on  external  evidence,  of  the  authenticity  and  credibility 
of  the  work,  and  then  assenting,  by  a  cold  act  of  the 
understanding,  to  the  veracity  of  the  facts  alleged  in  its 
pages ;  certainly  we  shall  never  believe  with  what  the 
Bible  itself  calls  belief;  for  the  truths,  to  which  we  have 
assented,  become  not  the  heart-springs  by  which  our  ac- 
tions are  guided.  The  seat,  in  short,  of  historical  faith  is 
the  head ;  whilst  the  requisition  of  the  Almighty  is,  "  My 
son,  give  me  thine  heart ;"  and  the  head  and  the  heart,  if 
not  far  removed  in  the  body,  are  widely  separated  in  all 
that  relates  to  vital  religion. 

We  introduce  our  discourse  with  these  few  remarks  on 
the  difference  between  saving  and  historical  faith,  in  order 
that  we  may  point  out  to  you  the  difference  between  the 
evidences  by  which  the  two  are  supported.  The  historical 
faith  requires  nothing  but  what  are  popularly  called  the 
evidences  of  Christianity  ;  and  a  volume  from  the  hands 
of  such  writers  as  Paley  or  Chalmers,  gathering  to  a  point 
with  industry  and  intelligence  the  scattered  testimonies  to 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  71 

the  divine  origin  of  our  religion,  suffices,  with  every  in- 
quiring mind,  to  produce  a  conviction  that  the  Bible  is  no 
"  cunningly-devised  fable."  But  saving  faith,  whilst  it 
does  not  discard  the  evidences  which  serve  as  out-works 
to  Christianity,  possesses  others  which  are  peculiar  to  it- 
self; and  just  as  historical  faith  being  seated  in  the  head, 
the  proofs  on  which  it  rests  address  themselves  to  the 
head,  so  saving  faith  being  seated  in  the  heart,  in  the  heart 
dwell  the  evidences  to  which  it  makes  its  appeal.  There 
has  often  been  given  melancholy  proof,  that  men  may  be 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  evidences  of  Christianity, 
and  yet  be  completely  ignorant  of  its  vital  truths.  And 
the  caution  can  never  be  out  of  place,  that  we  confound 
not  the  historical  with  the  saving  belief;  nor  conclude 
that,  because  we  can  demonstrate  the  inspiration  of  Scrip- 
ture, we  have  felt  its  power,  and  yielded  to  its  authority. 
It  is  essential  that  we  bear  these  considerations  in 
mind,  as  we  proceed  to  review  the  assertion  of  our  text, 
"  He  that  belie veth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in 
himself."  The  character,  to  which  the  Apostle  refers,  is 
unquestionably  that  of  a  true  believer  in  Christ,  one  who 
believes  to  the  saving  of  the  soul,  and  not  merely  with  the 
assent  of  the  understanding.  Hence,  according  to  our 
foregoing  remarks,  he  is  one  who  must  be  possessed  of  an 
evidence  widely  differing  from  that  which  goes  to  the  es- 
tablishing historical  faith ;  and,  consequently,  we  find  that 
St.  John  affirms  the  existence  of  such  evidence,  saying, 
"  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in 
himself;"  in  himself,  so  that  the  witness  can  have  nothing 
whatever  in  common  with  the  logic  of  the  Schools,  or  the 
deductions  of  analysis,  but  is  a  secret,  though  indelible 


72  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

thing,  graven  upon  tablets  which  are  not  to  be  surveyed  by 
the  natural  eye.  The  context  of  the  passage  might  indeed 
warrant  our  confining  the  witness  to  points  immediately 
associated  with  the  great  truth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ. 
For  the  Apostle  begins  the  chapter  with  stating,  "  Whoso- 
ever believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ  is  born  of  God ;" 
and  the  strain  of  his  after  argument  has  a  clear  and  con- 
tinued reference  to  this  first  announcement.  But  there  is 
no  necessity,  that,  in  discoursing  on  the  passage,  we  should 
confine  ourselves  to  this  or  that  portion  of  the  Gospel.  The 
Messiahship  of  Jesus  is  a  kind  of  centre,  whence  emanate 
those  various  truths,  through  belief  in  which  we  become 
raised  from  the  ruins  of  the  fall;  and  no  man  can  have 
faith  in  Jesus  as  the  Christ,  the  anointed  of  God,  except 
so  far  as  he  has  faith  in  the  life-giving  doctrines  which 
he  was  anointed  to  proclaim.  Come,  then,  with  us  to  a 
survey  of  sundry  of  these  doctrines.  The  whole  Bible 
may  be  epitomized  as  exhibiting  man's  state  by  nature, 
and  his  state  by  grace — let  us  seize  on  these  two  grand 
divisions;  and  let  us  labour  to  show  you,  that  he  that 
"  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in  him- 
self," first,  to  the  ruin  consequent  on  transgression ;  and 
secondly,  to  the  rescue  perfected  by  redemption. 

Now,  it  is  the  result  only  of  spiritual  perception,  that 
man  beholds  and  recognises  in  himself  a  fallen  being.  He 
cannot  indeed  wholly  shut  his  eyes  to  the  ravages  which 
sin  has  made  in  our  creation ;  and  he  must  be  an  infidel 
as  to  the  first  principles  of  even  natural  -theology,  if  he 
think  that  the  scathed  and  stricken  globe,  on  which  he 
dwells,  is  the  fair  unspotted  world  which  the  Almighty 
regarded  with  infinite  complacence.     The  traces  of  wrath 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  73 

are  too  manifest  throughout  the  provinces  of  the  earth,  to 
allow  of  doubt  in  any  reflecting  mind,  that  some  fearful 
apostacy  has  divided  us  from  God,  and  that  we  stand  not 
in  the  rank  which  we  occupied,  when  the  Omnipotent 
fashioned  man  after  the  image  of  Himself.  But,  individ- 
ually considered,  the  great  result  to  ourselves  of  the  fall  of 
Adam  has  been  such  a  prostration  of  moral  power,  that 
we  have  no  ability  of  turning  unto  God,  or  of  doing 
things  that  shall  be  pleasing  in  his  sight.  We  are  so 
fallen  as  to  be  unable  to  rise ;  and  herein  it  is  that  we 
maintain  the  need  of  spiritual  perception ;  for  the  carnal, 
whilst  it  may  distinguish,  accurately  enough,  the  linea- 
ments of  decay  which  demonstrate  the  introduction  of 
evil,  looks  upon  man  only  as  he  "  lieth  in  wickedness,"  and 
therefore  discerns  nothing  of  his  incapacity  to  rise.  The 
effort  must  be  made,  before  the  incapacity  can  be  dis- 
played ;  and  the  making  the  effort  presupposes  the  opera- 
tions of  a  higher  agency  than  human ;  so  that,  with  all  the 
confession  which  is  generally  and  frankly  put  forth,  of  the 
tremendous  consequences  of  early  rebellion,  of  the  loss  of 
birthright,  and  of  the  degenerate  and  sunken  estate  of  our 
race,  the  heart  of  the  apostacy  is  never  approached,  and 
the  man  of  historical  faith  cannot,  in  strict  truth,  know 
himself  fallen,  because  mere  historical  faith  will  never 
lead  him  to  strive  to  rise  from  his  degradation. 

But  how  different  with  the  man  who  truly  "  believeth 
on  the  Son  of  God."  He  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself." 
He  has  been  subjected  to  the  workings  of  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord.  He  has  passed  through  the  successive  processes  of 
conviction  and  conversion.  He  has,  it  may  be,  long  re- 
sisted the  motions  which  would  have  led  him  to  Christ, 


74  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

and  gone  about  to  "  establish  a  righteousness  of  his  own ;" 
and  not  until  his  own  insufficiency  has  been  practically 
proved  to  him  by  repeated  stumblings,  when,  in  his  own 
strength,  he  attempted  to  turn  unto  God,  has  that  full 
change  been  effected  which  left  him  "  a  new  creature," 
born  again  of  an  incorruptible  seed.  And  we  ask  you 
whether  it  will  not  necessarily  come  to  pass,  that,  when 
this  renewed  man  looks  into  himself,  and  finds,  in  his  own 
experience,  accumulated  proof  of  the  desperate  alienation 
of  our  nature  from  God — proof  which  has  been  furnished 
by  vain  endeavours  at  saving  himself,  and  bold  resistance 
to  the  teachings  of  the  Holy  Ghost — we  ask  you  whether 
it  will  not  come  to  pass  that  this  man  will  so  thoroughly 
understand  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  that  he  may  be 
affirmed  to  have  "the  witness  in  himself"  to  the  moral 
ruin  which  followed  on  transgression  ? 

And  not  only  so ;  but  the  man  in  question  is  a  believer 
in  Christ  Jesus  as  the  High  Priest  of  our  profession,  who 
hath  "put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  Himself."  We 
often  have  to  tell  you  that  no  correct  estimate  can  be 
formed  of  sin,  unless  we  measure  its  enormity  by  the  great- 
ness of  the  satisfaction  which  was  required  for  its  pardon. 
And  only  so  far  as  the  heinousness  of  sin  is  discovered, 
can  the  fearful ness  be  felt  of  our  condition  by  nature; 
and  therefore  we  may  justly  maintain  that  he  alone  under- 
stands rightly  the  fall  of  man,  who  understands  rightly 
the  evil  of  transgression.  But  external  testimony  will 
never  satisfy  us  of  this  evil.  Not  indeed -that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  gather,  from  such  testimony,  a  confused  and  gen- 
eral estimate  of  sin.  We  may  look  at  its  palpable  and 
pestilential  consequences,  and  hence  infer  its  destructive 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  75 

aiid  appalling  properties;  so  that  a  mind,  over  which 
none  of  the  renewing  influences  of  God's  Spirit  have 
passed,  may  picture  to  itself  the  lengthened  trains  of  dis- 
ease and  sadness  and  death  which  have  darkened  creation, 
and  fix  upon  sin  as  the  desecrating  cause  which  ushered  in 
the  retinue.  Yea,  the  natural  mind  may  advance  even  a 
step  further  than  this :  it  may  have  an  occasional  dread  of 
approaching  wrath :  it  may  attain  a  consciousness,  and 
that,  too,  a  painful  and  almost  paralyzing  consciousness, 
that  an  eternal  penalty  is  annexed  to  transgression  of 
God's  law,  and  that  all  who  die  at  enmity  with  the  Most 
High,  must,  in  recompense  of  their  sinfulness,  be  visited 
with  fiery  indignation. 

But,  with  all  this,  there  is  nothing  which  can  strictly 
be  called  knowledge  of  sin  ;  there  is  no  faith  in  the  sacri- 
fice which  has  been  offered  for  sin ;  whereas,  he  who 
"  believes  on  the  Son  of  God,"  "  hath  the  witness  in 
himself,"  to  the  immensity  of  sin,  for  he  has,  in  himself, 
a  vigorous  perception  of  the  mysterious  and  awful  tilings 
of  the  Atonement.  Just  think  what  it  is  to  gaze,  with  an 
eye  of  faith,  on  the  Redeemer  of  mankind,  during  his 
career  of  self-denial  and  suffering.  At  each  point  of  that 
career,  He  stooped  beneath  the  weight  of  imputed  trans- 
gression ;  and  though  He  was  infinitely  delighted  to  execute 
the  will  of  the  Father,  yet  so  stern  and  crushing  was  the 
pressure  of  guilt,  when  laid  on  spotless  innocence,  that  the 
Apostle  declares  that  even  Christ  "  pleased  not  Himself " 
in  the  work  which  He  had  undertaken  to  achieve.  His 
whole  life  was  one  continued  oblation ;  and  from  the 
moment  in  which  the  divine  nature  coalesced  with  the 
human,  up  to  that  in  which,  amid  the  heavings  of  creation, 


76  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

the  Mediator  breathed  out  his  soul  in  agony,  yet  in  love, 
the  reconciliation  of  the  sinner  to  a  holy  God  was  going 
gradually  forwards  5  and  no  pang  could  have  been  spared 
from  the  anguish,  without  rendering  the  reconciliation 
incomplete.  What,  then,  must  be  the  heinousness  of  sin, 
if  its  pardon  could  be  procured  by  nothing  short  of  this 
costly  and  complicated  endurance  !  The  man,  who  be- 
lieves in  the  Son  of  God  as  baptized,  for  our  sakes,  with 
the  baptism  of  woe  and  of  blood,  will  individualize,  as  it 
were,  the  atonement.  He  will  feel  that  Christ  Jesus,  by 
his  agony  and  passion,  redeemed  all ;  but  he  will  also  feel 
that  the  same  agony  and  passion  would  have  been  indis- 
pensable in  order  to  redeem  one.  Had  he  himself  stood 
alone  upon  the  earth,  yea,  and  had  he  offended  only  in 
one  solitary  tittle,  still  the  same  stupendous  instrumentality 
must  have  been  employed;  Godhead  and  manhood  must 
still  have  combined ;  and  the  complex  person,  the  man 
Jesus  Christ,  must  have  wrestled,  and  toiled,  and  wept, 
and  died ;  otherwise  the  lonely  offender  must  have  sunk 
beneath  the  vengeance  due  to  his  lonely  offence,  and  not 
have  been  the  less  stricken  by  the  wrath  of  the  Almighty, 
from  being  the  single  object  that  had  roused  it  into 
action. 

And  it  is  essential  to  true  faith  in  Christ  as  our  surety 
and  sacrifice,  that  apprehensions  such  as  these  should  be 
entertained  by  the  believer.  Sin  is  beheld  through  the 
wounds  of  the  Saviour;  and,  thus  beheld,  its  lightest 
acting  is  discerned  to  be  infinitely  dishonouring  to  God, 
and  infinitely  destructive  to  man.  But  it  is  "  in  himself 
that  the  believer  finds  the  witness.  Faith  brings  Christ 
into  his  heart;    and  then  the  mysteries  of  Calvary  are 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  77 

developed ;  and  the  man  feels  his  own  share  in  the  Cru- 
cifixion ;  feels,  as  we  have  already  described,  that  his  own 
sins  alone  were  of  guilt  enough  to  make  his  Salvation 
impossible  without  that  Crucifixion.  And  if  such  internal 
feelings  be  the  necessary  accompaniment,  or,  rather,  a 
constituent  part,  of  saving  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
is  it  not  undeniable,  that  "  he  who  believeth  on  the  Son 
of  God  hath  the  witness  in  himself"  to  the  heinousness  of 
sin  ;  in  other  words,  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself"  to  the 
ruin  consequent  on  transgression  ? 

Or,  if  we  push  the  inquiry  further,  we  may  still  reach 
the  same  conclusion.  The  fall  has  entailed  upon  man 
corrupt  affections  and  impaired  faculties ;  and  much  of  the 
moral  ruin,  with  which  the  earth  is  overspread,  results 
from  the  legacy  thus  fatally  bequeathed.  But  until  there 
is  conflict  in  the  heart — and  conflict  there  will  be  none 
until  the  opposing  principle  of  grace  is  introduced — man 
remains  comparatively  ignorant  of  the  actual  bias  and 
tendency  of  his  nature.  When,  however,  he  "believes 
on  the  Son  of  God,"  then  he  finds  "a  witness  in  himself" 
to  the  truth  of  all  which  Scripture  testifies  concerning  the 
imbecility  and  iniquity  of  man.  Is  the  heart  charac- 
terized as  "  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked?"  Believing  on  Christ,  he  hath  "the  witness  in 
himself;"  for  though  he  "keep  the  heart  with  all  dili- 
gence," yet  does  he  find  it  continually  "  starting  aside  like 
a  broken  bow,"  and  plotting  treason  against  the  Saviour. 
Is  it  asserted  that  "the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit, 
and  the  Spirit  against  the  flesh  ?"  He  hath  "  the  witness 
in  himself;"  for  he  finds,  with  St.  Paul,  "  a  law  in  his 
members  warring  against  the  law  of  his  mind,  and  bring- 


78  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

ing  hini  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin,  which  is  in  his 
members."  Are  we  told  that  "we  are  not  sufficient  of 
ourselves  to  think  any  thing  as  of  ourselves  ?"  He  hath 
"  the  witness  in  himself ;"  seeing  that  the  review  of  every 
day  covers  him  with  confusion,  showing  him,  that,  how- 
ever much  may  have  been  attempted,  little  or  nothing 
has  been  done,  in  the  work  of  secret  communion  with 
God.  Is  the  Christian's  life  represented  as  a  battle  ?  is 
the  power,  possessed  by  apostate  spirits,  described  as 
tremendous?  is  the  scriptural  delineation  of  the  believer 
that  of  a  stranger  and  pilgrim,  journeying  painfully 
through  a  moral  waste,  and  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
malignant  foes  ?  Why,  to  all  this,  he  hath  "  the  witness 
in  himself."  So  long  as  he  did  not  believe  on  the  Son  of 
God,  every  thing  went  smoothly  :  he  was  not  conscious  of 
the  power  of  indwelling  corruption,  for  he  attempted  no 
resistance  to  that  power ;  he  knew  nothing  of  the  might 
of  evil  spirits,  for  he  had  waged  no  war  with  these  spirits ; 
he  felt  not  the  earth  to  be  a  wilderness,  for  he  had  made 
it  his  home,  and  was  enamoured  of  its  desolations.  But, 
believing  on  the  Son  of  God,  every  thing  is  changed.  He 
has  been  required  to  "  crucify  the  flesh  with  its  affections 
and  its  lusts  ;"  and  he  hath  "  the  witness  in  himself"  to 
the  strength  of  the  carnal  despotism.  He  has  been  sent 
into  the  field  to  "  wrestle  with  principalities  and  powers  ;" 
and  he  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself,"  that  their  might, is 
only  rivalled  by  their  subtlety.  He  has  had  his  hopes 
turned  on  "  a  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose  maker  and 
whose  builder  is  God ;"  and  the  contrast  between  what  is 
promised,  and  what  is  possessed,  has  given  him  "  the  witness 
in  himself,"  that  the  things  of  earth  are  unsatisfying  and  vain. 


IV-1  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  79 

So  that  we  may  safely  affirm,  that,  whatever  the  state- 
ments which  Scripture  advances  in  relation  to  the  con- 
dition and  circumstances  entailed  upon  man  by  the  fall, 

the   believer   in   Christ   does   not    turn   to   any  external 
sources,  in   order  to  gain  assurance   of  their  truth.     He 
goes  into  himself.     Ju>t  as  it  is  certain  that  blessings  must 
be   taken  from  us   before   we  can  fully   appreciate  their 
beauty  and  worth,  so  also,  in  spiritual  things,  we  must  be 
delivered  from  curses,  before  we  can  rightly  estimate  their 
depth  and  their  terror.     It  is  not  the  man  who  is  asleep  on 
the  edge  of  a  precipice,  who  is  conscious  of  the  awfulness 
of  the  gulph— wake  him,  and  his  wild  look,  and  thrilling 
cry,  measure  to  you  the  danger  from  which  he  finds  him- 
self delivered.     We  know  comparatively  nothing  of  our 
natural  condition,  until  rescued  from  it ;  the  fetters  are  too 
polished  to  grate,  and  too  transparent  to  be  commonly  dis- 
cerned— break  them,  and  we  learn,  by  the  fragments,  the 
number  and  thickness  of  the  links.     Thus  it  is  the  believer 
alone  who  can  have  just  apprehensions  of  the  consequences 
of  early  apostacy;   he  gains  those  apprehensions,  as  we 
have  endeavoured  to  show  you,  from  operations  carried  on 
within  the  sphere  of  his  own  heart.     And,  therefore,  take 
the  survey,  how  you  will,  of  the  evil  of  sin,  of  the  degra- 
dation of  man  through  transgression,  of  the  blight  which 
has  passed  over   his  powers,  of  the  eclipse   which  hath 
darkened  his  happiness — oh,  books  will  give  you  nothing 
adequate,  philosophy  will  be  found  at  fault,  a  mere  histori- 
cal faith  will  leave  you  without  any  convincing  demonstra- 
tion, any  sufficient  exhibition ;  but  this  proposition  remains 
firm  and  unshaken,  "  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God 
hath  the  witness  in  himself." 


80  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

We  hasten  to  the  second,  and  perhaps  more  obvious, 
truth — namely,  that  "he,  who  believeth  on  the  Son  of 
God,  hath  the  witness  in  himself"  to  the  rescue  perfected 
by  Redemption.  Now  we  think,  that,  when  St.  Paul 
styled  himself  "the  chief  of  sinners,"  he  used  language 
which  ought  not  to  be  explained  by  reference  to  the  per- 
secution and  blasphemy,  of  which  he  had  been  guilty  in 
the  days  of  his  ignorance.  It  would  be  hard,  or  rather 
impossible,  to  show  that  Saul  of  Tarsus  was  a  sinner 
"  above  others,"  because,  out  of  blind  love  for  the  law  of 
Moses,  he  raged  furiously  against  those  who,  as  he  thought, 
were  subverting  that  law.  He  sinned  grievously ;  but  he 
sinned  ignorantly ;  and  the  readiness  with  which,  when 
better  taught,  he  espoused  the  cause  which  he  had  striven 
to  destroy,  proved  incontestably,  that,  however  mistaken 
and  misdirected  his  zeal,  he  had  not  been  actuated  by  any 
obstinate  enmity  to  truth  and  its  author.  We  rather 
think,  that,  in  calling  himself  "the  chief  of  sinners,"  St. 
Paul  used  language  which  every  renewed  man  would  be 
equally  disposed  to  adopt.  We  should  question  whether 
there  could  be  genuine  conversion,  apart  from  this  honest 
appropriation  of  pre-eminence  in  sinfulness.  The  man  may 
not  have  been  a  murderer ;  he  may  not  have  been  an  adul- 
terer ;  his  conduct  may  never  have  been  deformed  by  the 
grosser  workings  of  ungodliness.  If  the  extent  of  sinful- 
ness is  to  be  computed  by  direct  and  flagrant  breaches  of 
the  precepts  of  the  second  table,  there  may  be  many  of 
his  fellow-creatures  to  whom  the  title  of  ."chief "  is  palpa- 
bly more  appropriate.  But  the  principle  on  which  this 
computation  proceeds,  is  manifestly  incorrect.  If  we  may 
fairly  talk  of  degrees  in  sinfulness,  the  circumstances  of  the 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  81 

sinner  must  be  taken  into  account — his  means,  his  oppor- 
tunities, the  godly  motions  which  he  has  resisted,  the 
admonitions  he  has  despised,  the  warnings  he  has  neg- 
lected. And  then  only  can  one  man  be  fairly  proved  to 
be  a  greater  sinner  than  another,  when,  having  received  as 
much  in  assistance,  he  has  rendered  back  less  in  obedi- 
ence. 

But  this  is  a  calculation  which  we  have  no  power  of 
making.  Known  unto  God  alone  are  the  strivings  of  the 
Spirit  with  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  men ;  and  whilst 
each  amongst  us  may  be  able  to  answer  for  himself,  as  to 
his  own  resistance  to  the  motions  of  heavenly  grace,  it  is 
not  possible  that  he  should  answer  for  his  neighbour :  we 
can  never  tell  whether  the  same  amount  of  obstacle  have 
been  placed  in  the  path  of  other  transgressors,  as  we  know 
to  have  been  set  before  ourselves  in  the  career  of  way- 
wardness and  evil ;  and,  therefore,  neither  can  we  tell 
whether  another  have  sinned  against  as  much  of  light, 
and  as  much  of  grace,  as  we  feel  that  we  ourselves  have 
resisted :  so  that,  if  sinfulness  be  rightly  estimated,  esti- 
mated by  what  has  been  done,  placed  in  juxtaposition 
with  what  has  been  withstood,  we  maintain  that  every 
renewed  man  is  bound,  by  that  charity  which  "  hopeth  all 
things,"  to  account  himself  "the  chief  of  sinners," — not 
reckoning  by  the  fact  that  his  misdoings  have  been  less 
flagrant  than  those  of  another,  but  proceeding  on  the 
supposition  that  his  privileges  may  have  been  greater. 

And  if  it  be  a  necessary  result  of  conversion,  or  of 
believing  on  the  Son  of  God,  that  a  man  should  feel  him- 
self "  the  chief  of  sinners,"  then  think  what  "  a  witness 
he- hath  in  himself"  to  the  glorious  truth,  that  "  the  blood 


82  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  Faith  has  been 
implanted  in  his  heart;  and  faith  is  that  stupendous 
principle  which  gathers  forgiveness,  and  propitiation,  and 
intercession  into  our  homes,  and  makes  them,  as  it  were, 
our  own  property,  and  admits  us  into  the  actual  possession 
of  mercies,  known  hitherto  only  by  name,  and  rumour,  and 
discourse ;  and  hence  the  Gospel,  which,  when  heard,  was, 
at  best,  only  a  pleasing  sound,  like  that  of  music  on  the 
waters,  becomes,  when  believed  in,  an  ample  charter  con- 
signing to  us  a  magnificent  eternity.  And  if  it  be  only 
remembered,  that,  as  a  consequence  on  this  appropriation, 
which  is  effected  by  faith,  the  man  becomes  assured  of  the 
forgiveness  of  sins,  and  of  the  complete  revocation  of  that 
edict  of  banishment  which  had  gone  forth  against  him, 
in  common  with  the  countless  myriads  of  Adam's  pos- 
terity, why,  whither  shall  he  turn,  except  to  himself, 
when  he  would  seek  evidence  of  the  majestic  plenitude 
and  power  of  redemption  ?  He  examines  his  own  crimi- 
nality ;  and  he  is  forced  to  the  verdict  that  he  is  "  the 
chief  of  sinners."  And  yet  he  is  pardoned,  reconciled, 
accepted — he,  the  chief;  he,  whose  case  might  therefore 
have  been  pronounced  the  most  difficult,  the  least  hope- 
ful ;  his  sins  are  blotted  out,  and  the  blood  of  atonement 
has  prevailed  to  the  bringing  him  nigh  unto  God.  Where, 
then,  shall  the  case  be  found,  which  the  virtue  of  Christ's 
passion  will  not  reach?  Where  the  individual,  whose 
offences  are  so  complicated,  whose  resistance  to  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  been  so  protracted  and  obstinate,  that  he  is 
utterly  excluded  from  the  ranges  of  mercy,  and  thrown 
too  far  from  God  to  be  brought  back  by  the  Mediator's 
blood  ?     The  believer  hath  "  the  witness  in  himself"  that 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  83 

"the  chief  of  sinners"  is  forgiven.  But  if  the  greatest 
have  found  mercy,  every  other  may  find  mercy.  There- 
fore he  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself"  to  the  unbounded 
freedom  with  which  the  compassions  of  God  extend  to  the 
whole  of  human  kind.  He  needs  not  argument ;  he  re- 
quires no  curious  and  well-arranged  proofs ;  he  looks  into 
himself,  himself  a  monument  of  distinguishing  grace,  him- 
self a  brand  plucked  out  from  the  burning — and,  oh !  he 
will  not  ask  the  theological  critic,  or  the  polemical  divine, 
to  unfold  to  him  the  greatness  of  salvation :  he  will  rather 
declare,  with  tears  of  gladness  and  thankfulness,  that  he 
"hath  the  witness  in  himself"  that  "this  is  a  faithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus 
came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners." 

And,  besides  all  this,  the  doctrine  of  the  influences  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  a  prime  characteristic  of  the  Gospel 
scheme ;  and  great  are  the  offices  of  this  third  person 
in  the  Trinity  in  the  work  of  human  salvation.  But  the 
believer  has  himself  been  made  the  subject  of  these  offices ; 
and  he  can  therefore  feel,  "  in  himself,"  the  clearest 
testimony  to  their  reality  and  extent.  The  Spirit  is 
represented  to  us  as  effecting  such  a  renovation  of  the 
creature,  that,  from  a  lover  of  sin,  it  becomes  a  lover  of 
God,  and  is  clothed  with  something  of  the  same  garniture 
as  Adam  was  when  he  tenanted  Paradise.  The  believer 
looks  into  himself,  and  he  finds  himself  "  a  new  creature ;" 
"  old  things  are  passed  away :  behold,  all  things  are 
become  new  ;"  and  thus  he  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself" 
to  the  renewing  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  it  is, 
further,  the  office  of  the  Spirit  to  lead  on  the  new  creature 
from  one   degree,    both  of    holiness   and   knowledge,   to 


84  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

another ;  not  suffering  hint  to  be  stationary,  but  training 
him  continually  for  "  the  inheritance  of  the  saints."  Of 
this  office,  also,  the  believer  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself." 
His  growth  may  be  slow :  often  may  he  be  tempted  to 
question  whether  any  progress  is  made ;  still,  let  there  be 
a  fair  comparison  of  different  periods  of  the  Christian  life, 
and  marks  of  advance  will  certainly  be  discernible :  the 
workings  of  sin  are  more  detected ;  the  eye  is  more  single ; 
the  objects  of  earth  are  less  attractive ■;  prayer  is  more 
earnest ;  praise  is  more  fervent ;  and  therefore  it  will 
necessarily  come  to  pass  that  he  "hath  the  witness  in 
himself "  that  the  Spirit  sanctifieth  all  the  elect  people  of 
God.  The  connection  between  justification  and  sanctifica- 
tion,  between  faith  as  the  producing  cause,  and  works  as  the 
necessary  fruit,  is  thus  found  amongst  those  fundamental 
truths  to  which  the  inward  witness  testifies.  The  believer 
looks  within ;  he  feels  that  he  would  not  barter  for  the 
universe  the  persuasion  that  salvation  is  wholly  of  God, 
and  that  no  righteousness  of  his  own  can  help  forward  his 
acceptance  with  his  Creator.  But  then  he  also  feels  that 
the  amazing  love,  which  is  displayed  in  this  free  redemp- 
tion, binds  him  to  God  by  ties  a  thousand  times  stronger 
than  those  of  legal  obedience ;  and  that  the  fact  of  nothing 
being  required  in  the  way  of  merit,  is  an  inducement,  the 
most  powerful,  that  every  thing  should  be  attempted  out 
of  filial  affection. 

We  enter  not  now  on  any  proof  of  this  indissoluble 
connection  between  simple  faith,  and  active  zeal.  We 
refer  to  believing  experience;  we  appeal  to  its  records. 
Has  it  not  always  been  found  that  the  strongest  faith  is 
accompanied  by  the  warmest  love ;  and  that,  in  the  very 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  85 

proportion  in  which  the  notion  has  been  discarded  of 
works  availing  to  justification,  have  works  been  wrought 
as  evidences  and  effects  of  justification  ?  The  believer 
feels  and  finds  the  truth  of  this  "  in  himself."  His  whole 
soul  is  drawn  out  towards  God.  As  to  "  continuing  in  sin, 
that  grace  may  abound,"  this  presupposes  that  he  takes 
pleasure  in  sin ;  whereas  it  is  the  very  constitution  of  his 
nature  to  hate  sin ;  and,  therefore,  Antinomianism  would 
be  to  him  a  kind  of  crucifixion :  he  has  crucified  the  old 
nature,  through  the  assistance  of  God ;  and  now  you 
would  make  him  crucify  the  new,  in  opposition  to  God. 
No ;  rather  he  will  love  much,  because  much  has  been 
forgiven ;  and  whenever  he  feels  the  heart  stirred  within 
him  at  the  memory  of  the  unlimited  and  unconditional 
mercies  of  which  he  is  the  object,  and  the  soul  warmed 
into  ecstasy  at  the  contemplation  of  blessings  received, 
and  longing  to  show  her  dedication  to  her  Almighty 
Benefactor  by  expatiating,  with  tender  solicitude,  over  a 
sinful  and  suffering  world,  surely  it  may  be  said  of  the 
believer  that  he  hath  a  "  witness  in  himself"  to  the  illus- 
trious truth,  that,  where  the  Spirit  implants  faith,  it  makes 
that  faith  the  stimulus  to  holiness. 

We  might,  therefore,  associate  our  text  with  the  words 
of  St.  Paul  in  writing  to  the  Romans :  "  The  Spirit  itself 
beareth  witness  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God:  and  if  children,  then  heirs;  heirs  of  God,  and  joint 
heirs  with  Christ.  So  that  the  secret  and  inward  testi- 
mony, on  which  we  have  spoken,  is  no  imaginary  thing : 
the  believer  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself "  by  having  the 
Spirit  in  himself;  and  if  we  mention  briefly  some  few 
points  in  his  experience,  we  may  dismiss  as  proved  our 


86  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

second  proposition.  A  believer,  for  example,  has  received, 
at  various  periods  of  his  life,  clear  and  distinct  answers  to 
prayer — therefore  he  "hath  the  witness  in  himself "  that 
God  is  a  God  that  heareth  prayer.  He  has  obtained 
many  victories  over  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil 
— therefore  he  "hath  the  witness  in  himself"  that  there 
are  "  more  for  him  than  there  are  against  him."  He  has 
found  the  darkness  of  affliction  cheered  by  the  light  of 
his  Maker's  countenance — therefore  he  "  hath  the  witness 
in  himself"  of  God's  faithfulness  to  his  covenant  engage- 
ments. He  has  experienced  delight  in  communion  with 
God — therefore  he  "hath  the  witness  in  himself"  that 
"  there  is  now  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ 
Jesus."  He  perceives  that  his  affections — though  there  be 
still  much  of  leaning  to  earth — are  set  on  heavenly  things 
— therefore,  he  "  hath  the  witness  in  himself"  that  he  is 
"  risen  with  Christ ;"  and,  if  "  risen  with  Christ,"  (O 
mighty  testimony,  O  illustrious  evidence !)  then  he  hath 
also  "  the  witness  in  himself  "  that  he,  too,  shall  rise  ;  that 
this  corruptible  shall  put  on  incorruption ;  this  mortal 
assume  immortality ;  and  that  materialism,  freed  from  all 
the  dishonours  with  which  sin  has  burdened  it,  shall  be 
beautified  into  a  worthy  dwelling-place  for  the  pure  and 
perfected  soul.  Nay,  the  witness  stops  not  here.  It  goes 
beyond  the  Resurrection.  It  brings  within  its  range  the 
kingdom  of  the  saints.  Often,  amid  the  sufferings  of 
this  his  probationary  state,  there  are  vouchsafed  to  the 
believer  foretastes  of  joys  laid  up  at  God's  right  hand. 
His  soul,  rapt  into  the  future,  holds  converse  with  the 
glorious  company  which  Heaven  hath  already  gathered 
into   its  capacious  bosom.     He  asks   not   that  eloquence 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  87 

should  pour  itself  forth  on  an  attempted  description  of 
Paradise  ;  or  that  the  notes  of  human  music  should  weave 
themselves  into  melody  emulous  of  the  harpings  of  angels  ; 
or  that  the  scenery  of  fair  landscapes  should  be  spread 
before  him,  figuring,  by  faint  images,  the  pastures  that  are 
watered  by  the  liver  of  life.  He  has  himself  gone  up 
into  the  promised  land.  He  has  brought  down  clusters, 
like  those  of  Eschol ;  and,  suspending  these  in  his  soul,  he 
"  hath  the  witness  in  himself "  that  it  is  a  rich  and  goodly 
portion  which  the  Lord  hath  provided  for  his  people. 
Thus,  believing  on  the  Son  of  God,  he  "  hath  the  witness 
in  himself  "  on  every  point  of  Christian  doctrine,  and  every 
point  of  Christian  privilege :  nothing  is  omitted  by  this 
inward  testimony :  from  the  first  pulse  of  spiritual  life  to 
the  full  consummation  of  blessedness ;  from  adoption  into 
God's  family  on  earth  to  admission  within  the  circles  of 
cherubim  and  seraphim  ;  all  that  is  to  be  learned,  all  that 
is  to  be  done,  all  that  is  to  be  enjoyed,  the  witness  speaks 
audibly  concerning  these ;  and  we  trust  that,  as  we  before 
showed  that  "  he  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath 
the  witness  in  himself"  to  the  ruin  consequent  on  trans- 
gression, so  now  have  we  proved  of  the  rescue  effected  by 
redemption,  that  it  is  equally  and  gloriously  true,  that  "  he 
which  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in 
himself." 

We  have  little  to  add,  except  to  call  on  you  not  to 
think  it  strange,  that,  weak  and  polluted  as  man  is,  he 
should  carry  in  himself  so  sublime  a  witness  as  that  on 
which  we  have  been  speaking.  We  bid  you  elevate  your 
apprehensions  of  a  converted  and  renewed  man,  of  a  true 
believer  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  order  that,  if  your- 


88  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  [Lect. 

selves  converted  and  renewed,  you  may  know  your  high 
calling ;  and  if  not,  may  "be  stirred  to  earnestness  in  de- 
siring and  seeking  that  great  change  without  which  shall 
no  man  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  True,  indeed, 
it  may  be  said  of  the  believer,  he  is  a  frail  thing,  a  wasting 
thing,  a  sinful  thing.  But,  nevertheless,  he  is  a  Temple 
of  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent.  Eemember  the  question 
of  St.  Paul,  "  Know  ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  Temple 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  in  you  ?"  And,  moreover,  is 
not  Christ  expressly  said  to  dwell  in  the  believer's  heart, 
and  to  be  found  in  him,  and  to  be  one  with  him  ?  And 
is  it  not  also  promised  of  the  Father,  that  He  will  come 
with  the  Son,  and  make  his  abode  with  every  faithful 
disciple  ?  Behold,  then, — this  frail  thing,  this  sinful  thing, 
is  actually  inhabited  by  Deity, — the  very  Trinity  of  God- 
head possesses,  occupies,  and  fills  him:  oh,  then,  where  is 
the  marvel,  that  he,  who  hath  such  guests  within  himself, 
should  have  within  himself  such  a  witness  as  that  which 
we  have  described ! 

Yes,  it  is  on  this  account  that  the  witness  is  so  decisive 
and  so  comforting.  It  is  the  witness  of  an  indwelling 
Saviour,  the  witness  of  Christ  formed  within  us,  the  hope 
of  everlasting  glory.  And  I  would  have  you  all  aspire  to 
the  possessing  this  witness.  I  would  have  every  one  of 
you  able  boldly  to  affirm,  "  I  have  the  witness  in  myself 
to  splendid  destinies  coeval  with  eternity."  And  if  it  be 
said,  "  Child  as  thou  art  of  sinfulness,  heir  of  corruption, 
whence  comes  it  that  thou  canst  have  such  witness  in 
thyself?"  God  grant  that  this  may  be  your  reply,  "I 
have  Christ  in  myself,  Christ  who  is  styled  '  the  true  and 
faithful  witness.' "     Why,  then,  shouldst  thou  marvel  at 


IV.]  THE  WITNESS  IN  ONESELF.  89 

my  saying  that  I  have  "the  witness  in  myself?"  Only, 
dear  brethren,  remember  that,  as  all  assurance  is  the  fruit 
of  God's  Spirit,  it  must  be  darkened  and  weakened  by 
any  indulgence  in  sin.  Alas !  if  the  believer  be  not  dili- 
gent in  mortifying  corrupt  passions,  and  waging  war  with 
the  world  and  the  flesh,  he  will  have  "  the  witness  in  him- 
self;" but  it  will  be  a  witness  to  the  melancholy  truth  that 
God's  Spirit  may  be  grieved,  and  that,  when  grieved, 
there  happens  what  the  Psalmist  has  so  pathetically  de- 
scribed, 'Tearfulness  and  trembling  are  come  upon  me, 
and  a  horrible  dread  hath  overwhelmed  me." 


LECTURE  Y. 


€\}t  $jmrnijilja. 

♦ 

2  Peter  i.  21. 
a  Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

The  Church,  during  this  portion  of  the  year,  appoints  that 
the  first  lessons  for  her  daily  service  should  be  selected 
from  the  Apocrypha.  It  is  not  usual  to  take  texts  from 
the  Apocrypha,  and  therefore  we  do  not  attempt  to  follow 
the  public  service  in  choosing  our  subjects  of  discourse. 
We  say  "  not  usual,"  though  in  the  printed  volumes  of 
many  of  our  eminent  divines  you  will  find  sermons  on 
texts  in  the  Apocrypha,  so  that  we  should  not  be  without 
precedent  if  we  addressed  you  on  passages  from  these 
uncanonical  books.  Though  our  Church  differs  widely 
from  the  Roman  Catholic  in  regard  of  the  Apocrypha, 
refusing  wholly  to  recognise  these  books  as  inspired,  she 
does  not  authorize  their  being  treated  with  that  neglect 
which  they  now  commonly  experience  from  Protestants. 
These  books  are  appointed  to  be  publicly  read  :  but  then, 
to  prevent  its  being  on  this  account  supposed,  that  they 
are  to  be  accounted  of  equal  authority  with  the  canonical, 
you  find  it   expressly   stated  in  the  Articles,  that  "the 


THE  APOCRYPHA.  91 

Church  doth  read  them  for  example  of  life,  and  instruction 
of  manners,  but  yet  doth  it  not  apply  them  to  establish 
any  doctrine." 

Yet  if  texts  from  the  Apocrypha  may  not  be  used  to 
establish  any  doctrine,  they  may  often  be  subservient  to 
the  instruction  and  comfort  of  the  Christian.  How  curious 
and  how  interesting  is  what  is  related  of  himself  by  a 
man  as  great  in  genius  as  in  godliness,  John  Bunyan,  the 
author  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress."  "  I  was  now,"  says  he 
when  describing  a  season  of  great  spiritual  darkness,  "  I 
was  now  quite  giving  up  the  ghost  of  all  my  hopes  of 
ever  attaining  life,  when  that  sentence  fell  with  weight 
upon  my  spirit,  '  Look  at  the  generations  of  old,  and  see ; 
did  ever  any  trust  in  God,  and  were  confounded  V  "  The 
words  enlightened  and  encouraged  him :  he  went  home ; 
he  searched  his  Bible;  but  they  were  no  where  to  be 
found ;  he .  asked  first  this  good  man,  and  then  another ; 
but  they  could  give  him  no  information.  "  At  this,"  says 
he,  "  I  wondered  that  such  a  sentence  should  so  suddenly, 
and  with  such  comfort  and  strength,  seize  upon  my  heart, 
and  yet  that  none  could  find  it ;  for  I  doubted  not  but 
that  it  was  in  the  holy  Scriptures.  Thus  I  continued 
above  a  year,  and  could  not  find  the  place :  but  at  last, 
casting  my  eye  upon  the  Apocryphal  books,  I  found  it  in 
Ecclesiasticus,  '  Look  at  the  generations  of  old,  and  see ; 
did  ever  any  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  was  confounded  ?  or 
did  any  abide  in  his  fear,  and  was  forsaken  ?  or  whom  did 
he  ever  despise  that  called  upon  him  V  "  Bunyan  describes 
himself  as  at  first  somewhat  daunted  at  finding  that 
words  which  had  been  so  useful  to  him  were  only  in  the 
Apocrypha.     But  this  feeling  wore  off,  "  especially,"  as  he 


92  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

says,  "  when  I  considered  that,  though  it  was  not  in  those 
texts  that  we  call  holy  and  canonical,  yet  forasmuch  as 
this  sentence  was  the  sum  and  substance  of  many  of  the 
promises,  it  was  my  duty  to  take  the  comfort  of  it ;  and 
I  bless  God  for  that  word,  for  it  was  of  good  to  me ;  that 
word  doth  still  ofttimes  shine  before  my  face." 

Yet  whilst  arguing  from  this  instance  that  the  Christian 
may,  at  times  and  most  lawfully,  derive  comfort  from  the 
Apocrypha,  it  will  not  often  happen  to  him  to  confound, 
as  did  Bunyan,  the  Apocrypha  with  the  canonical  Scrip- 
tures, or  to  suppose  that  what  was  quoted  from  the  one 
might  be  found  in  the  other.  There  is  generally  no  mis- 
taking the  Apocrypha  for  the  inspired  word  of  God. 
They  are  so  distinguished  that  you  can  tell  at  once,  on 
first  hearing,  which  is  which.  And  this  is  the  first  fact  on 
which  we  mean  to  speak  to  you  to-day — the  sameness 
which  there  is  throughout  the  Bible,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  marked  difference  which  there  is  between  the  Bible 
and  every  other  book.  The  text  which  we  have  taken 
from  St.  Peter  will  account  for  this,  though  nothing  else 
will.  The  writers  of  the  Bible,  "holy  men  of  God," 
"  spake  as  they  were  moved,"  not  by  their  own  disposition 
or  ability,  but  "  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost" 
— there  may  well  be  sameness,  if  there  were  but  one 
mover.  But  when  this  shall  have  been  done,  we  should 
like  to  show  you  in  some  particular  instances,  of  what  use 
and  worth  the  Apocryphal  books  may  be,  so  that  you  may 
accord  them  that  measure  of  respect  which  is  prescribed 
by  the  Church.  Such,  then,  is  the  plan  of  the  remainder 
of  our  discourse.  We  wish  to  show  you  that  there  are 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  reading  the  Apocrypha; 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  93 

but  we  must  first  show  you  how  broad  a  separation  there 
is  between  the  Apocryphal  books  and  the  Canonical,  and 
how  such  a  separation  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact, 
that  we  may  apply  to  the  one,  though  we  cannot  to  the 
other,  the  words  of  St.  Peter  in  our  text,  "  Holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Now  we  may  venture  to  assert  of  the  Bible — that  is, 
of  what  you  commonly  mean  by  the  Bible,  the  Canonical 
Books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments, — we  may  venture 
to  assert  of  the  Bible,  that,  though  its  several  parts  were 
composed  in  different  ages,  and  therefore  also  by  different 
writers,  it  is  an  uniform  book,  presenting  throughout  the 
same  truths,  though  with  great  variety  of  exhibition,  and 
marked  throughout  by  a  surprising  similarity  of  style. 
What  does  this  prove,  but  that  the  Bible  must  throughout 
have  had  the  same  author,  however  that  author  may  have 
employed  various  scribes  ?  It  is,  we  think,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  of  contemplations,  this  of  the  sameness  of 
authorship  which  may  be  traced  in  Holy  Writ.  That 
men,  separated  from  each  other  by  long  intervals  of  time, 
should  have  taken  up  successively  the  lofty  topic  of  our 
Redemption,  and,  whether  in  the  effusions  of  poetry,  or 
the  enactments  of  legislation,  or  the  anticipations  of  Proph- 
ecy, or  the  narrations  of  history,  should  have  told  the 
same  truths,  and  announced  the  same  mercies — and  this  in 
a  manner  so  peculiarly  their  own,  that  you  cannot  meet 
with  a  page  of  their  writings,  from  the  Book  of  Genesis 
downward  to  the  Book  of  Revelation,  and  not  instantly 
recognise  it  as  a  page  of  the  Bible — we  say  of  this,  that  it 
can  be  accounted  for  on  no  supposition,  but  that  of  each 
having  been  moved  by  the  same  divine  Spirit,  so  that  to 


94  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

deny  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture  is  to  make  its  composi- 
tion more  marvellous  than  when  considered  superhuman. 
I  seem  always  to  hear  the  same  voice,  whether  the  volume 
before  me  is  informing  me  how  the  unshapen  Chaos 
resolved  itself,  at  the  Creator's  bidding,  into  symmetry 
and  life ;  or  men,  familiar  with  the  future,  are  gathering 
centuries  into  sentences ;  or  a  lawgiver  is  arranging  the 
ceremonies  of  a  mystic  ritual ;  or  historians  are  discoursing 
of  battles  and  captivities;  or  Evangelists  describe  the 
institution,  and  Apostles  unfold  the  doctrines,  of  Chris- 
tianity. I  seem  always  to  hear  the  same  voice  ;  as  though 
the  words  of  John,  the  exile  in  Patmos,  were  the  echo  of 
those  of  Moses,  the  leader  of  Israel.  There  is  a  vast 
difference  in  the  subjects  successively  touched  on.  But, 
nevertheless,  there  is  a  tone  which  I  always  recognise,  and 
which  always  impresses  the  feeling,  that  I  am  hearkening 
to  the  same  speaker.  There  seems  to  be  no  change  in  the 
instrument,  though  continual  change  in  the  sound ;  as  if, 
at  one  time,  a  whirlwind  swept  the  chords,  that  I  might 
be  startled  by  the  treadings  of  wrath  and  devastation  ; 
and,  at  another,  they  were  touched  by  an  angel's  hand, 
that  I  might  be  soothed  by  the  melodies  of  mercy. 

And  whilst  the  same  voice  is  breathed  from  every  page 
of  Scripture,  it  never  issues  from  any  other  composition. 
The  Commentator  cannot  speak  in  the  same  tone  as  the 
Prophet  or  the  Evangelist.  What  poet  could  forge  a 
Psalm  which  should  pass  with  us  for  David's?  What 
preacher  construct  a  sermon  which  might  be  received  as 
delivered  by  Peter  or  Paul?  Look  at  the  Apocrypha. 
You  perceive  that  the  scriptural  style  is  imitated,  but  that 
there  is  only  imitation.     We  defy  a  man  to  write  like  the 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  95 

Bible,  and  yet  all  the  writers  in  the  Bible  write  alike. 
We  say,  they  write  alike.  Their  styles  are  very  different. 
You  have  the  gorgeous  and  the  simple,  the  didactic  and 
the  argumentative.  But  still  they  write  alike.  Whenever 
you  meet  a  scriptural  quotation,  you  know  it  to  be  Scrip- 
ture, though  not  acquainted  with  the  passage.  And  we 
affirm  that  there  is  an  evidence,  which  ousyht  to  be  irre- 
sistible,  in  that  sameness  of  authorship  which  alone  will 
account  for  what  we  thus  observe  in  the  Bible.  We 
know  no  plausible  explanation,  if  you  reject  that  of  the 
Inspiration  of  Scripture,  of  the  facts  to-  which  we  have 
referred,  the  facts  that  the  same  truths  are  delivered  in 
the  figures  and  predictions  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  the 
realities  and  occurrences  of  the  New;  the  same  scheme 
carried  on  by  the  wanderings  of  patriarchs,  the  sacrifices 
of  priests,  the  ambition  of  kings,  the  sufferings  of  martyrs; 
the  same  style  preserved  by  the  poet  in  his  hymns,  the 
Prophet  in  his  visions,  the  lawgiver  in  his  codes,  the  his- 
torian in  his  annals — so  that,  as  though  the  author  never 
died,  but  appeared  at  one  time  in  one  character,  and  at 
another  in  another,  the  Bible  comes  to  us  as  the  dictate  of 
one  mind,  and  the  writing  of  one  pen — Inspiration  accounts 
for  this,  but  we  can  imagine  no  other  solution. 

This,  you  will  observe,  is  the  solution  which,  on  the 
teaching  of  the  Church,  we  can  derive  from  the  saying  of 
St.  Peter  in  our  text.  Not  recognising  the  Apocryphal 
books  as  inspired,  we  can  indeed  read  with  great  interest 
the  histories  which  they  contain,  we  can  derive  wisdom 
from  the  sententious  maxims  wherein  they  abound ;  but 
we  are  noways  surprised  that  there  should  be  in  every 
part  a  marked  inferiority  to  those  portions  of  the  Canoni- 


96  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

cal  Scriptures,  which  are  most  closely  copied,  so  that  they 
cannot  be  passed  upon  us  as  belonging  to  that  volume 
which  we  regard  as  the  utterance  of  the  Lord  God  Him- 
self. On  the  other  hand,  we  admit  it  indeed  for  a  mar- 
vellous fact,  that  a  book,  whose  authorship  is  spread  over 
so  many  centuries,  and  attributed  in  some  sense  to  so 
many  writers,  as  we  may  affirm  of  the  Bible,  should  bear 
on  it  so  earnestly  the  impress  of  one  man,  and  the  trace 
of  one  pen,  that  its  every  verse,  wherever  met  with,  wher- 
ever heard,  is  recognised  by  us  as  taken  from  the  Bible — 
still  the  fact,  however  surprising,  admits  of  a  ready  ex- 
planation :  we  expect  in  the  Bible  the  appearance  of  a 
sameness  of  authorship,  though  we  know  of  a  diversity  of 
authors :  we  expect  to  find  a  something  which  shall  belong 
equally  to  Moses,  and  Isaiah,  and  Matthew,  and  Paul, 
though  there  shall  also  be  much  which  shall  widely  distin- 
guish these- writers  the  one  from  the  other  ;  for  we  know, 
that,  however  different  they  might  have  been  in  those 
varied  qualities  which  give  a  varied  character  to  the 
productions  of  the  pen,  still,  according  to  the  assertion 
of  our  text,  "  Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Now  we  might  insist  at  greater  length  on  the  remark- 
able differences  between  the  Apocryphal  books  and  the 
Canonical — differences  which  are  well  worth  your  most  at- 
tentive consideration,  inasmuch  as  they  furnish  a  strong  argu- 
ment for  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture.  There  is  an  internal 
evidence  in  the  books  themselves,  as  compared  the  one  with 
the  other,  which  can  hardly  be  resisted — showing  how 
readily  our  text  may  be  accepted  as  true  of  all  the  writers 
of  the  Canonical  books,  but  how  it  would  lose  its  force  and 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  97 

convincingness,  if  we  attempted  to  apply  it  to  the  writers 
of  the  Apocryphal.  We  have  said  enough,  however,  to 
prevent  your  giving  too  high  a  standing  to  the  Apocrypha, 
or  assigning  to  it  the  same  worth  and  weight  as  you 
assign  to  the  Canonical  Scriptures.  We  would  now  rather 
engage  you  with  some  evidence  of  the  excellence  of  the 
Apocryphal  books ;  for  there  is  perhaps  more  danger  of 
your  underrating  than  overrating  these  books ;  and  as  the 
Church  bids  us  now  read  them  to  you  in  her  week-day 
services,  it  may  be  well  that  Ave  show  you,  in  one  or  two 
instances,  how  profitable  they  may  be  to  the  scriptural 
student. 

The  remarkable  fact,  which  we  adduced  from  the  life 
of  John  Bunyan,  will  show  that,  though  in  the  general,  the 
verses  of  the  Apocrypha  may  at  once  be  distinguished  from 
those  of  the  Bible,  still  they  will  sometimes  act  with  all  the 
force  and  all  the  persuasiveness  of  inspired  sayings.  In 
one  of  her  most  solemn  services,  the  administration  of  the 
Holy  Communion,  the  Church  directs  the  reading  of  some 
sentences  from  the  Apocrypha ;  and  possibly  there  may 
be  those  amongst  the  hearers  who  scarcely  know  that  they 
are  not  taken  from  the  Canonical  Scriptures.  When,  as 
the  alms  are  being  collected,  the  officiating  minister  utters 
the  words,  "  Give  alms  of  thy  goods,  and  never  turn  thy 
face  from  any  poor  man ;  and  then  the  face  of  the  Lord 
shall  not  be  turned  away  from  thee ;"  or,  "  Be  merciful 
after  thy  power ;  if  thou  hast  much,  give  plenteously :  if 
thou  hast  little,  do  thy  diligence  gladly  to  give  of  that 
little ;  for  so  gatherest  thou  thyself  a  good  reward  in  the 
day  of  necessity" — there  may  be  some  whom  such  strong 
sayings  stir  to  charity  towards  their  destitute  brethren,  but 


98  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

who  never  think  that  the  Book  of  Tobit,  not  any  book 
which  they  are  wont  to  reckon  scriptural,  furnished  the 
words  which  plead  so  effectually  the  cause  of  the  poor. 

And  God  forbid  that  we  should  for  a  moment  imply, 
that  there  is  any  want  in  the  Canonical  Scriptures  of  bless- 
ed and  consolatory  passages,  which  the  clergyman  may 
adduce,  when  he  takes  his  pastoral  round,  and  visits  the 
house  of  mourning,  where  stricken  relatives  are  bewailing 
the  dead.  Indeed  there  is  "  balm  in  Gilead ;"  the  promises 
and  assurances  of  the  Bible  are  as  precious  as  numerous ; 
and  he  can  find  no  grief,  for  which  he  may  not  adduce  a 
soothing  word  in  season.  And  yet  he  might  sometimes 
take  words  from  the  Apocrypha,  and  find  that  they  too 
would  come  home  to  the  sorrowing  heart.  I  do  not  know 
more  striking  words  than  these  from  the  Book  of  Wisdom, 
"  But  the  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hand  of  God, 
and  there  shall  no  torment  touch  them.  In  the  sight  of 
the  unwise,  they  seemed  to  die,  and  their  departure  is  taken 
for  misery  and  their  going  from  us  to  be  utter  destruction ; 
but  they  are  in  peace.  For  though  they  be  punished  in 
the  sight  of  men,  yet  is  their  hope  full  of  immortality."  A 
"hope  full  of  immortality" — how  often  are  these  words 
used !  how  seldom,  perhaps,  is  it  remembered,  that  they 
are  not  Scriptural,  but  Apocryphal ! 

Then,  again,  how  exquisitely  touching  are  the  sayings 
of  the  Book  of  Wisdom  in  regard  of  early  death :  "  For 
honourable  age  is  not  that  which  standeth  in  length  of  time, 
nor  that  is  measured  by  number  of  years.  But  wisdom  is 
the  gray  hair  unto  men,  and  an  unspotted  life  is  old  age. 
He  pleased  God,  and  was  beloved  of  Him ;  so  that,  living 
among  sinners,  he  was  translated.     Yea,  speedily  was  he 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  99 

takeii  away,  lest  that  wickedness  should  alter  his  under- 
standing, or  deceit  beguile  his  soul.  He  being  made  perfect 
in  a  short  time,  fulfilled  a  long  time.  For  his  soul  pleased 
the  Lord ;  therefore  hasted  He  to  take  him  away  from 
among  the  wicked." 

Then,  again,  the  historical  Books  of  the  Apocrypha  give 
much  important  information  as  to  events  which  befell  the 
Jews  after  the  Canon  of  the  Old  Testament  had  been  closed. 
And  we  shall  now  go  at  some  length  into  the  details  of  one 
particular  occurrence,  because  we  may  thence  show  you 
how  a  passage  in  the  Apocrypha  will  occasionally  help  to 
illustrate  the  inspired  Scripture. 

You  may  remember  that,  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  his 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  that  noble  chapter  wherein  he 
recounts  so  many  of  the  exploits  of  faith,  St.  Paul  has  these 
words :  "  Women  received  their  dead  raised  to  life  again ; 
and  others  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance,  that 
they  might  obtain  a  better  resurrection."  Now  to  what 
women  does  the  Apostle  refer  ?  he  is  bringing  forward  the 
worthies  of  earlier  times,  whose  histories  are  given  in  the 
Old  Testament ;  but  amongst  these,  what  women  were 
there,  whose  faith  brought  back  the  dead  ;  or  who,  antici- 
pating a  better  resurrection,  submitted  to  tortures,  and 
rejected  a  deliverance  whose  price  was  apostacy  ?  There 
is  no  difficulty  in  answering  this  question,  so  far  as  relates 
to  women  who  received  back  their  dead.  You  have  two 
notable  instances,  that  of  the  poor  widow  of  Sarepta,  whose 
son  was  restored  to  her  through  the  intercession  of  Elijah ; 
and  that  of  the  Shunammite,  who,  when  her  boy  died, 
hastened  to  Elisha  upon  Carmel,  and  had  the  reward  of  her 
faith,  when  the  Prophet  stretched  himself  upon  the  child, 


100  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Tect. 

and  "  the  flesh  of  the  child  waxed  warm,"  and  "  the  child 
opened  his  eyes."  But  where  are  we  to  find  a  woman  who 
answers  to  the  second  part  of  the  Apostle's  description, 
"  others  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance,  that  they 
might  obtain  a  better  resurrection  ?"  The  mention  of  a 
Resurrection  would  lead  us  to  search  for  the  parties,  to 
whom  St.  Paul  refers,  in  some  late  period  of  the  Jewish 
history,  seeing  that  there  is  good  reason  to  question, 
whether  this  great  article  of  faith  were  distinctly  revealed 
in  earlier  days.  It  is  evident,  that,  at  the  time  of  our 
Lord's  appearance  upon  earth,  there  was  a  general  persua- 
sion amongst  the  Jews  of  the  Resurrection  of  the  body, 
only  the  Sadducees  dissenting  from  the  popular  belief. 
But  it  does  not  appear  that  this  general  persuasion  had 
been  of  long  standing ;  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  the  writ- 
ings of  the  Old  Testament  contain  explicit  statements  on 
which  such  persuasion  might  be  grounded ;  and  the  proba- 
bility, therefore,  is,  that  it  was  during  the  period  which 
elapsed  between  Malachi  and  Christ  that  it  gained  its  hold 
on  the  Jewish  people. 

And  it  is  to  occurrences  during  this  period  that  the 
best  commentators  agree  in  referring  the  latter  part  of 
the  Apostle's  statement.  There  is  no  history  in  the  Old 
Testament  which  will  bear  it  out;  you  cannot,  that  is,  fix 
on  any  narrative,  which  sets  before  you  individuals,  sub- 
mitting to  be  tortured  for  the  sake  of  religion,  and  sustained 
by  their  belief  in  a  better  Resurrection.  But  what  the 
Canonical  books  do  not  supply  may  be  found  in  the  Apoc- 
ryphal ;  and  if  you  look  at  the  marginal  references  to 
the  passage  in  question,  you  will  find  yourselves  directed 
to  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  Second  Book  of  the  Macca- 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  101 

bees.  There,  indeed,  is  a  beautiful  and  thrilling  history, 
which  illustrates  to  the  very  letter  the  words  of  the 
Apostle,  setting  before  us  those  who  "  were  tortured,  not 
accepting  deliverance,  that  they  might  obtain  a  better 
Resurrection."  Possibly  the  history  will  be  quite  new  to 
many  of  you ;  it  cannot  fail  to  be  deeply  interesting  to 
all ;  listen,  then,  whilst  we  endeavour  to  show  you  how 
the  writings  of  one  whom  we  do  not  believe  to  have  been 
inspired,  may  illustrate  the  words  of  an  Apostle,  a  writer 
who  is  assuredly  to  be  reckoned  amongst  those  who  may 
be  described  by  such  a  saying  as  this,  "  Holy  men  of  God 
spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Now  the  Second  Book  of  Maccabees  is  chiefly  occu- 
pied with  accounts  of  the  fearful  persecutions  of  the  Jews 
by  Antiochus,  who  lived  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
before  Christ.  And  the  seventh  chapter  presents  us  with 
an  extraordinary  narrative,  bearing  out  most  precisely  the 
statement  which  we  seek  to  elucidate.  The  story  is  that 
of  a  mother  and  her  seven  sons,  who,  in  one  day,  suffered 
death  by  exquisite  torments,  rather  than  act  contrary  to 
the  law  of  their  God.  Of  course,  it  would  not  suffice  for 
the  illustration  of  the  passage,  that  we  could  thus  point  to 
a  whole  family  submitting  to  a  cruel  death  for  the  sake  of 
religion.  We  must  be  able  to  show,  that,  in  undergoing 
tortures,  and  refusing  deliverance,  they  were  animated  by 
the  hope  of  a  better  Resurrection — otherwise  we  clearly 
fail  to  produce  an  exact  case  in  point.  But  you  will 
find  the  mother  and  her  seven  sons  expressing,  most 
distinctly,  their  hope  of  a  Resurrection,  and  thus  fulfilling, 
with  the  greatest  accuracy,  the  description  given  by  St. 
Paul.     Let  us   go  to  the  place  of   execution — for   never 


102  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

were  martyrs  more  worthy  of  being  observed ;  never  was 
finer  heroism  displayed ;  and  never  were  the  last  words  of 
witnesses  for  God  and  for  truth  more  deserving  of  being 
listened  to  with  eager  attention. 

The  parties  brought  before  the  tyrant  are,  as  we  have 
said,  a  mother  and  her  seven  sons  ;  and  the  thing  which 
they  are  required  to  do,  is  to  taste  swine's  flesh,  and  thus 
to  break  the  ceremonial  law.  They  might  have  argued, 
with  some  show  of  probability,  that,  since  it  was  but  the 
ceremonial  law,  and  not  the  moral,  which  they  were 
required  to  infringe,  it  might  be  lawful  for  them  to 
purchase  life  by  compliance.  But  these  were  not  persons 
who  could  be  satisfied  with  an  evasion  or  subterfuge. 
They  kuew,  that,  under  the  dispensation  beneath  which 
they  lived,  every  tittle  of  the  ceremonial  law  was  indissolu- 
bly  binding  ;  and  that  they  should  be  as  verily  guilty,  if 
they  wilfully  infringed  it  in  a  solitary  particular,  as  if  they 
neglected  the  weightiest  duties  which  the  moral  law  en- 
joined. And  therefore,  though  "  tormented  with  scourges 
and  whips,"  yet  did  they  strenuously  refuse  to  obey  the 
cruel  tyrant — one  of  them  exclaiming,  in  the  name  of  the 
rest,  "  What  would st  thou  ask  of  us  ?  we  are  ready  to  die, 
rather  than  to  transgress  the  laws  of  our  fathers."  Upon 
this,  the  enraged  king  gave  orders  that  he,  who  had  spoken 
for  the  others,  should  be  put  to  death  in  the  most  bar- 
barous way;  but  his  mother,  and  six  brethren,  though 
compelled  to  be  spectators  of  his  excruciating  sufferings, 
looked  on  with  unshaken  constancy,  and  did  but  exhort 
one  another  to  die  manfully. 

And  then  was  the  second  son  given  over  to  the  rack : 
but,  when  at  the  last  gasp,  he  gathered  up  his  shattered 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  103 

limbs,  and  thus  addressed  the  tyrant,  "  Thou,  like  a  fury, 
takest  us  out  of  this  present  life ;  but  the  King  of  the 
world  shall  raise  us  up,  who  have  died  for  his  laws,  unto 
everlasting  life."  See  ye  not  here  that  it  was  the  hope  of 
a  better  Resurrection  which  kept  the  martyr  steadfast  ? 
The  third  son  next  refused,  as  his  dead  brothers  had  done, 
to  obey  the  tyrant's  command,  and,  stretching  forth  his 
hands  that  they  might  be  cut  off  by  the  executioner,  boldly 
exclaimed,  "  These  I  had  from  Heaven,  and  for  his  laws  I 
despise  them  ;  and  from  him  I  hope  to  receive  them  again." 
He  too,  you  observe,  had  his  thoughts  on  a  Resurrection. 
His  limbs  might  be  mangled ;  but  he  was  persuaded  that 
this  corruptible  would  put  on  incorruption,  this  mortal 
immortality. 

And  now  is  not  Antiochus  satiated  with  blood  ?  will 
not  the  heroism,  displayed  by  the  three,  prevail  on  him  to 
dismiss  the  others  ?  Alas  !  no.  The  fourth  son  advances : 
he  braves  the  same  torments,  and  is  supported  by  the 
same  hope.  Hear  how  he  speaks,  when  just  ready  to  die, 
"  It  is  good,  being  put  to  death  by  men,  to  look  for  hope 
from  God,  to  be  raised  up  again  by  him  :  as  for  thee,  thou 
shalt  have  no  resurrection  to  life."  Still,  you  see,  it  was  a 
Resurrection  to  which  the  martyr  looked.  And  the  fifth 
died  in  like  manner,  and  then  the  sixth — each  displaying 
invincible  fortitude,  and  each  expressing  an  unshaken 
reliance  upon  God.  "What  did  the  mother  all  this  while  ? 
The  ground  is  strewed  with  the  mangled  bodies  of  her 
sons — is  she  not,  woman  as  she  is,  convulsed  with  grief? 
does  not  her  courage  give  way,  as  child  falls  after  child  ? 
is  she  not  ready  to  entreat  the  survivors  to  yield  ?  or  will 
she  not  at  least  unman  them  by  her  tears  and  her  anguish  ? 


104  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

Wonderful  mother !  Well  may  the  writer  say  of  her,  that 
she  was  marvellous  above  all,  aucl  worthy  of  honourable 
memory.  In  place  of  counselling  her  sons  to  apostacy,  in 
place  of  even  distressing  them  writh  her  grief,  "she  ex- 
horted every  one  of  them  in  her  own  language,"  and 
animated  to  martyrdom.  Noble,  very  noble,  are  the  words 
which  she  is  represented  as  using,  and  they  are  words 
which  speak  of  the  better  Resurrection.  "  I  cannot  tell 
how  you  came  into  my  womb ;  for  I  neither  gave  you 
breath  nor  life  ;  neither  was  it  I  that  formed  the  members 
of  every  one  of  you.  But  doubtless  the  Creator  of  the 
world,  who  formed  the  generation  of  man,  and  found  out 
the  beginning  of  all  things,  will  also,  of  his  own  mercy, 
give  you  breath  and  life  again,  as  you  now  regard  not  your 
ownselves  for  his  law's  sake." 

There  remained  now  but  one  son,  the  youngest ;  and 
even  Antiochus,  bloodthirsty  as  he  was,  seemed  reluctant  to 
order  his  execution.  Seeing  terrors  had  no  power,  he  tried 
what  bribes  would  do,  promising  the  lad  that  he  would 
make  him  a  rich  and  happy  man,  if  he  would  but  turn  from 
the  law  of  his  fathers.  But  the  young  man  indignantly 
refused ;  and  then  the  king,  still  wishing  to  overcome  his 
constancy,  called  the  mother,  and  exhorted  her  to  counsel 
her  son  to  save  his  life.  It  was  a  hard  trial.  He  was  the 
sole  survivor  of  a  flourishing  family,  the  youngest  more- 
over, perhaps  also  the  dearest.  I  see  the  mother,  after 
repeated  expostulations  from  Antiochus,  consenting  to 
counsel  her  son :  she  approaches  him,  bows  herself  towards 
him,  and  addresses  him  in  the  speech  of  her  country.  Is 
she  subdued  at  last  ?  has  her  courage  given  way  ?  are 
thev  words  of  cowardice  which  she  whispers  in  his  ear? 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  105 

You  would  almost  think  so  from  the  manner  in  which  she 
begins,  "  O  my  son,  have  pity  upon  me  that  bare  thee." 
But  what  pity  does  she  ask  ?  We  may  well  again  exclaim, 
"  Wonderful  mother !"  She  asked  her  son  to  have  pity 
upon  her,  by  making  her  childless,  by  scorning  the  tyrant, 
and  braving  death.  "  I  beseech  thee,  my  son,  look  upon 
the  heaven  and  the  earth,  and  all  that  is  therein,  and  con- 
sider that  God  made  them  of  things  that  were  not ;  and  so 
was  mankind  made  likewise.  Fear  not  this  tormentor: 
but,  being  worthy  of  thy  brethren,  take  thy  death,  that  I 
may  receive  thee  &gain  in  mercy  with  thy  brethren."  Her 
heroism,  and  her  hope,  communicate  themselves  to  her  son. 
He  longs  to  lie  with  his  slaughtered  brothers :  he  upbraids 
the  tyrant,  predicts  his  doom,  and  then  expires  undaunted, 
in  the  midst  of  yet  fiercer  tortures  than  had  racked  the 
rest. 

We  are  not  told  in  what  way  the  mother  died.  We 
read  only  the  fact — "  last  of  all,  after  the  sons,  the  mother 
died."  But  we  cannot  doubt,  that,  having  counselled 
courage  to  her  children,  she  was  not  faint-hearted  herself. 
Indeed  the  hardest  part  of  her  trial  was  already  over :  she 
had  seen  her  sons  die ;  what  was  it  now  to  die  herself  ? 
What  attractions  had  life  to  offer  her  ?  There  they  lay,  a 
ghastly  pile,  the  brave  and  the  beautiful,  over  whom  she 
had  watched  from  infancy,  who  had  hung  upon  her  breast, 
who  had  been  nursed  on  her  knee,  and  who,  as  they  grew 
towards  manhood,  had  gladdened  her  heart  by  their  filial 
kindness,  and,  yet  more,  by  their  devotedness  to  God. 
She  would  not  survive  them :  she  would  not  be  left  behind. 
Their  spirits  seemed  to  beckon  her ;  and,  with  a  soul  full 
of  the  expectation  of  a  resurrection  unto  life,  she  must 


106  THE  APOCRYPHA.  [Lect. 

have  scorned  the  deliverance  proffered  her  by  the  tyrant, 
and  welcomed  the  torments  which  were  to  free  her  from 
the  flesh.  Thus  was  the  bloody  tragedy  completed :  the 
mother  and  her  seven  sons  fell  together,  choosing  the  most 
excruciating  death  in  preference  to  disobeying  God,  and 
having  such  faith  in  a  Resurrection  unto  life,  that  they 
despised  the  fire,  and  the  rack,  and  the  axe.  Who  does 
not  look  with  veneration  on  the  martyred  group  ?  Whose 
heart  burns  not,  as  the  matron  dashes  away  the  tears  which 
the  agonies  of  her  sons  must  have  forced  to  her  eyes,  and 
points,  with  majestic  air,  those  already  dying  to  a  bright 
world  above,  and  urges  those,  whose  trial  is  yet  to  come, 
to  defy  the  malice  and  the  cruelty  of  the  persecutor? 
Who  feels  not  the  greatness  of  the  faith  that  was  dis- 
played ?  and  who  then  can  marvel  that  an  Apostle,  eager 
to  exhibit  the  noblest  triumphs  of  the  principle  of  faith, 
should  not  have  confined  himself  to  the  Patriarchs  and 
warriors,  whose  stories  are  told  by  inspired  writers,  but, 
going  down  into  more  private  life,  should  have  selected  the 
family  which  was  massacred  in  one  day  by  an  infamous 
tyrant,  and  have  added  its  members  to  his  illustrious  cata- 
logue, though  he  found  the  record  in  a  book  whose  author 
is  not  reckoned  amongst  those  described  by  our  text, 
"Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  P 

Now  we  have  thus  wished  to  show  you  that  the  Apoc- 
ryphal Books,  which  are  being  read  at  this  time  in  the 
public  services  of  the  Church,  though  liot  inspired,  may' 
be  referred  to  with  advantage,  and  made  serviceable  to 
the  Christian.  You  are  especially  to  observe  that  our 
Church  does  not  use  them  to  establish  any  doctrine.     The 


V.]  THE  APOCRYPHA.  107 

Roman  Catholic  does ;  and  so  loose,  if  not  erroneous,  are 
many  of  the  statements  of  these  books,  that  they  can  be 
employed  to  the  giving  sanction  to  some  of  the  worst 
errors  of  Popery.  But  this  is  not  to  prevent  our  giving 
to  the  Apocryphal  books  their  due  measure  of  respect,  ex- 
tracting from  them  historical  information,  and  venerating 
the  noble  maxims  with  which  they  abound.  Surely  the 
history  which  we  have  given  you  of  the  mother  and  her 
sons  is  one  which  is  well  adapted  to  nerve  to  constancy  in 
a  righteous  profession.  We  cannot  do  better,  in  conclud- 
ing our  discourse,  than  exhort  to  imitation  of  the  faith  so 
signally  displayed.  Yes ;  such  is  faith,  such  its  power,  and 
such  its  reward.  And  though  we  do  indeed  feel  that  the 
crown  of  martyrs,  the  crown  Avon  at  the  stake,  or  on  the 
scaffold,  may  be  a  crown  of  extraordinary  lustre,  we  will 
not  suppose  that,  because  our  days  are  days  of  peace,  and 
not  of  persecution,  we  may  not  ourselves  attain  distin- 
guished glories  at  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  There  is  a 
martyrdom,  less  conspicuous,  indeed,  but  hardly  less  real, 
than  that  undergone  by  the  mother  and  her  sons,  and  in 
which  we,  as  Christians,  are  all  summoned  to  have  share. 
It  is  a  martyrdom  in  which  we  are  not  only  to  be  the 
sufferers,  but  also  the  executioners.  I  call  it  martyrdom, 
that,  if  the  right  hand  offend  us,  we  must  cut  it  off;  if  the 
right  eye,  we  must  pluck  it  out ;  that  the  flesh  must  be 
crucified  with  its  affections  and  lusts,  and  the  body  be  pre- 
sented, a  living  sacrifice,  unto  God.  And  I  know  not 
whether  there  may  not  often  be  required  a  more  active 
and  energetic  faith  for  this  slow  and  protracted  immolation 
of  ourselves,  than  for  the  going  boldly  to  the  place  of  ex- 
ecution, and  there  enduring  cheerfully  all  that  malice  can 


108  THE  APOCRYPHA. 

devise.  The  dying  daily,  the  perpetual  self-mortification, 
the  patient  submission  to  injuries,  the  incessant  effort  to 
promote  God's  glory, — these  may  be,  at  least,  as  arduous, 
and  ask  as  much  moral  strength,  as  the  facing  an  op- 
pressor, and  the  surrendering  even  life,  rather  than  abjure 
our  religion. 

I  know  not,  then,  why  we,  too,  may  not  share  the  bet- 
ter resurrection.  At  all  events,  by  making  greater  sacri- 
fices for  God,  by  attempting  a  more  rigid  self-denial,  by 
striving  after  higher  and  higher  degrees  of  Christian  vir- 
tue, we  may  undoubtedly  outstrip  others  who  are  running 
the  same  race,  and  thus  obtain  a  nobler  portion  from  the 
Judge  of  quick  and  dead.  Christian  men,  and  Christian 
women,  parents  and  children,  ye  are  not  called  to  stand 
before  Antiochus,  and  to  choose  between  denying  your 
God,  and  surrendering  your  lives.  But,  "holy  men  of 
God,  who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost," 
have  told  you  that  ye  are  called  to  witness  in  the  face  of  a 
scornful  world,  and  to  choose  between  losing  your  souls, 
and  mortifying  evil  passions.  We  conjure  you  to  accept 
not  deliverance.  Be  ye  bold,  as  were  the  mother  and  her 
sons,  of  whom  ye  have  now  heard ;  and  resolve,  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord,  that  nothing  but  death  shall  set  you 
free  from  warfare  and  suffering.  Binding  yourselves  to 
the  altar,  and  offering  up  yourselves  by  daily  and  hourly 
sacrifices,  in  obedience  to  God,  ye  may  gain  honours,  like 
those  which  martyrs  are  to  wear,  and  rise,  at  last,  in  that 
better  Besurrection,  which  shall  include -those  who  are  to 
shine  as  stars  in  the  firmament. 


LECTURE  VI. 


1 Jta  n  iiMng-plflrc. 


Isa.  xxxii.  2. 


"  And  a  man  shall  be  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest ;  as 
rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 

Theke  is  little  or  no  debate  amongst  commentators,  as  to 
the  personage  described  in  these  words.  It  is  probable, 
indeed,  that  the  prophecy,  in  which  they  occur,  had  a 
primary  reference  to  Hezekiah,  who,  as  successor  to 
the  iniquitous  Ahaz,  restored  the  worship  of  God,  and 
re-established  the  kingdom  of  Judah.  The  very  signal 
deliverance,  vouchsafed  by  God  to  his  people,  in  the  reign 
of  this  monarch,  when  the  swarming  hosts  of  the  Assyrian 
fell  in  one  night  before  the  destroying  angel,  may  justly 
be  considered  as  having  been  alluded  to  by  the  Prophet, 
in  strains  which  breathe  high  of  triumph  and  redemption. 
And  when  a  king  is  spoken  of  as  reigning  in  righteousness, 
and  there  is  associated  with  his  dominion  all  the  imagery 
of  prosperity  and  peace,  we  may  undoubtedly  find,  in  the 
holy  and  beneficent  rule  of  Hezekiah,  much  that  answers 
to  the  glowing  predictions.  But  the  destruction  of  the 
army  of  Sennacherib  may  itself  be  regarded  as  a  figurative 


HO  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

occurrence;  and  Hezekiah,  like  his  forefather  David,  is 
hut  the  type  of  the  Lord  our  Redeemer.  There  are  to  be 
great  and  fearful  judgments,  ere  Christ  shall  finally  set  up 
his  kingdom  on  the  earth ;  and  the  Assyrians,  miraculously 
slaughtered,  ere  Jerusalem  could  be  at  rest  under  its  pious 
monarch,  may  but  vividly  foreshow  how  the  wicked  shall 
consumed  by  the  brightness  of  Christ's  coming,  and  thus 
way  be  made  for  the  universal  reign  of  righteousness  and 
truth.  If,  in  our  text,  Hezekiah  is  to  be  understood  by 
the  "  man,"  of  whom  such  great  and  glorious  things  are 
affirmed,  you  will  unavoidably  feel  as  if  the  employed 
language  were  too  bold  and  comprehensive :  you  will  have 
to  explain  it  in  a  reduced  and  qualified  sense,  interpreting 
it  as  full  of  Eastern  metaphor,  which  must  not  be  too 
rigidly  understood.  But  apply  the  words  to  our  blessed 
Saviour,  and  there  will  be  found  nothing  of  strain  or 
exaggeration :  in  their  largest  sense,  they  come  short  of 
the  greatness  and  preciousness  of  his  offices ;  and  the  effort 
of  the  interpreter  must  be,  rather,  to  prove  them  in  any 
measure  adequate  to  what  they  describe,  than  to  bring  up 
what  they  describe  to  their  compass  and  extent. 

When,  indeed,  the  prediction  has  thus  been  interpreted 
of  that  righteous  King,  in  the  describing  of  whom  lan- 
guage, the  most  magnificent,  is  necessarily  weak,  you  may 
apply  it,  in  a  very  qualified  sense,  to  Hezekiah ;  but  we 
ought  not  to  think  that  Hezekiah  is  primarily  intended ; 
for  this  is  to  accuse  the  prophecy  of  exaggeration;  and 
exaggeration  is  too  nearly  akin  to  falsehood  to  be  ever  found 
in  the  word  of  the  Lord.  We  shall  not,  then,  think  it 
needful,  in  our  present  discourse,  to  give  heed  to  any  inter- 
pretation of  the   text,  but  that  which  refers  it  altogether 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  Ill 

to  Christ.  We  shall  consider  it  as  containing  descriptions, 
metaphorical  undoubtedly,  but  not  the  less  comforting  and 
instructive,  of  what  the  Redeemer  is  to  the  Church ;  and 
dismissing  all  regard  to  kings  or  kingdoms,  which  may 
have  prefigured  the  sovereignty  of  Jesus,  shall  examine 
only  how  this  man  is  "  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  and 
a  covert  from  the  tempest ;  as  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry 
place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 

Now  the  first  thing,  which  may  justly  strike  you  as 
remarkable  in  this  description  of  Christ,  is  the  emphasis 
which  seems  laid  on  the  word  "  man."  "  A  man"  shall  be 
this  or  that ;  and  Bishop  Lowth  renders  it,  "  the  man,"  as 
if  He  were  man  in  distinction  from  any  other,  which  is, 
indeed,  St.  Paul's  statement,  when  he  thus  writes  to  the 
Corinthians  :  "  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy ;  the 
second  man  is  the  Lord  from  heaven."  As  though  there 
had  never  been  but  two  men — the  first  Adam  and  the 
second — every  other,  as  having  been  born  in  sin,  and  the 
heir  of  death,  appearing  to  the  Apostle  undeserving  the 
name.  The  verse,  preceding  our  text,  runs  thus  :  "  Behold 
a  king  shall  reign  in  righteousness,  and  princes  shall  ride 
in  judgment."  But  this  mention  of  a  king,  and  of  princes, 
only  makes  more  memorable  the  mention  of  "  a  man :" 
there  is  the  more  evident  design  of  fixing  attention  on  the 
fact  of  its  being  a  man,  who  was  to  bear  certain  offices,  or 
perform  certain  deeds ;  as  if  we  were  likely  to  overlook 
this  fact,  or,  at  all  events,  to  lay  on  it  less  stress  than  it 
was  intended  to  bear.  You  readily  perceive,  that,  if  the 
prediction  had  been,  "  And  this  king  shall  be  as  a  hiding- 
place  from  the  wind,"  it  would  not  only  have  seemed  to 
follow  more  naturally  on  the   foregoing   verse,    but,    by 


112  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

keeping  up  the  mention  of  royalty,  would  Lave  suggested 
an  agency  adequate  perhaps  to  the  great  things  predicted. 
Whereas,  by  suddenly  changing  the  title,  by  dropping  the 
king,  and  speaking  merely  of  the  man,  the  Prophet  must 
be  considered  as  directing  us  especially  to  the  truth,  that 
the  king  should  be  a  man;  yea,  and  that  it  should  be 
in  consequence  of  his  manhood,  that  He  would  prove 
Himself  a  hiding-place  and  a  covert. 

There  is  thus,  in  the  prediction  before  us.  when  applied 
to  Christ,  the  strongest  possible  assertion  of  the  human 
nature  of  Christ,  and  of  its  being  that  nature  which  ren- 
ders Him  a  Saviour  suited  to  our  wants.  There  is  no 
exclusion  of  the  great  doctrine  of  the  divinity  of  Christ ; 
rather,  by  changing  the  title  of  a  king  for  that  of  a  man, 
the  Prophet  may  be  considered  as  expressing  a  fear,  that 
we  might  dwell  on  Christ  as  divine,  till  we  came  compara- 
tively  to  forget  Him  as  human :  what  need  to  remind  us 
so  emphatically  of  the  king  being  man,  if  He  were  nothing 
more  than  man,  if  He  were  not  also  God,  and  therefore 
likely,  in  this  his  higher  nature,  to  draw  off  unduly  atten- 
tion from  Him  in  his  lower  ?  But  whilst  it  is  thoroughly 
-consistent  with  the  truth  of  Christ's  divinity,  that  his 
humanity  should  be  so  explicitly  mentioned — nay,  whilst 
so  explicit  a  mention  may  even  be  taken  as  an  argument 
for  our  Lord's  having  been  the  Son  of  God,  as  well  as  the 
Son  of  man — there  can  be  no  debate  that  it  is  the 
humanity  of  Christ,  to  which  our  text  gives  the  promi- 
nence, that  it  is  this  humanity  to  which  seems  ascribed  the 
suitableness  of  Christ  for  the  offices  prophetically  assigned. 
Before,  therefore,  we  examine  these  offices  in  detail,  we 
ought  to  pause  on  the  fact  of  our  Lord's  being  man,  and 


VT.l  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  113 

consider  its  indispensableness  to  the  whole  scheme  of  our 
redemption. 

And  this  indispensableness  is  quickly  perceived,  foras- 
much as  what  our  blessed   Saviour  undertook   was   the 
reconciliation  of  our  offending  nature  to  God ;  and  this, 
it  is  perhaps  hardly  too  much  to  say,  could  not  have  been 
effected   in   any  nature   but   itself.     In  the  nature  which 
had  Binned,  must  suffering  be  endured  and  obedience  per- 
fected ;  otherwise,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  there  could  have 
been  no  satisfaction  made  to  the  violated  law  :  that  law, 
having  been  imposed  upon  man,  and  broken  by  man,  must 
have  had  demands  against  man  which  no  angel,  no  being 
acting  in  any  other  nature  but  that  of  man,  would  seem 
to  have  been  capable  of  answering.     We  do  not,  of  course, 
mean  that  any  mere  man  could  have  made  satisfaction  to 
justice  on    our  behalf:   it  was  the  divine  nature  in  the 
person  of  Christ,  which  gave  infinite  worth  to  the  endur- 
ances of  the  human,  and  made  the  single  sacrifice  immeas- 
urably more  than  a  ransom  for  the  world:  but  we  do  not 
see  (though  let  us  speak  with  all  humility  on  such  mys- 
terious thiugs)  how  the  junction  of  the  divine  nature  with, 
for  example,  the  angelic,  in  the  person  of  the  Redeemer, 
would  have  qualified  Him  to  act  as  our  surety :  what  was 
done  and  suffered  in  the  angelic  nature  might  have  pro- 
cured the  reconciliation  of  fallen  angels  to  God,  but  could 
have  had  no  discoverable  connection  with  that  of  fallen 
man.   It  is  then  the  fact,  that  the  eternal  "  Word  was  made 
flesh,"  that  He  who  was  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person,"  consented  to 
be  born,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  of  a  pure  virgin,  and  thus 
to  be  "  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,"  on  which  we  ground 


114  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

our  confidence  that  the  curse  is  removed,  that  we  are  no 
longer  necessarily  under  condemnation,  but  that  God  is 
willing:  to  welcome  us,  as  the  father  welcomed  back  his 
prodigal  son.  '  Forasmuch  as  He  was  man,  I  can  feel  of 
the  Mediator,  that  He  suffered  and  obeyed  in  my  stead : 
I  have  found  a  being  who,  in  regard  of  God  and  of  myself, 
is  what  Job,  in  the  infancy  of  Kevelation,  seems  vainly  to 
have  sought  for,  pathetically  exclaiming,  "  Neither  is  there 
any  daysman  betwixt  us,  who  might  lay  his  hand  upon  us 
both." 

And,  of  course,  if  it  be  indispensable  to  the  general 
scheme  of  Redemption  that  the  Mediator  should  be  man, 
you  cannot  take,  as  our  text  does,  detached  parts,  or 
separate  views  of  the  work,  without  bringing  in  Christ's 
manhood  as  essential  to  each.  He  must  have  been  man, 
in  order  to  his  making  the  atonement :  and  He  must  have 
been  man,  in  order  to  his  entering  into  all  our  wants,  un- 
derstanding our  circumstances,  and  having  a  fellow  feeling 
with  us  in  our  infirmities.  And  we  need  hardly  point  out 
to  you,  that,  in  giving  such  prominence  to  the  fact  of 
Christ's  manhood,  our  text  not  only  insists  on  that  without 
which  the  Gospel  could  not  meet  our  necessities,  but 
exhibits  the  feature  which,  of  all  others,  is  adapted  to 
comfort  and  encourage  us.  The  weak  and  the  sinful,  like 
ourselves,  shrink,  and  must  shrink,  from  absolute  Deity. 
So  soon  at  least  as  we  become  convinced  of  our  wickedness 
and  danger,  there  is  so  thorough  a  feeling  of  the  vast 
distance  at  which  we  stand  from  God,  and  the  barrier 
interposed  by  his  righteous  and  immutable  attributes,  aiid 
of  the  necessity  that  He  be  always  "  a  consuming  fire"  to 
the  rebellious  and  unholy,  that,  to  tell  us  of  our  Creator, 


VI.]  A  MAX  A   HIDING-PLACE.  115 

ami  not  to  tell  us  of  our  Mediator,  is  but  to  cover  us  with 
confusion,  or  to  drive  us  to  despair.  It  is  the  man  who  is 
still  spiritually  blind,  who  can  think  without  apprehension 
of  God,  or  regard  Him  as  a  Being  to  be  approached  and 
entreated.  Where  the  spiritual  eyesighl  has  been  in  any 
measure  purged,  (rod  will  be  viewed  as  terrible  in  his 
majesty,  a  Being  whose  holiness  renders  Hiui  so  awfully 
inaccessible  to  the  sinful,  that  it  were  even  better  to 
attempt  the  fleeing  from  his  presence,  than  to  dare  the 
endeavouring  to  address  Him  with  petition.  And  if  there 
had  been  made  to  us  a  Revelation,  that  God  was  willing 
to  receive  and  pardon  the  penitent,  no  specification  being 
given  as  to  the  nature  of  the  arrangement,  but  the  simple 
fact  being  stated  that  the  Almighty  could  and  would 
forgive,  indeed  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they,  who 
most  longed  for  reconciliation,  would  bave  ventured  on 
the  seeking  it ;  whether  the  tremendousness  of  having  to 
address  themselves  to  a  Being,  whose  very  nature  armed 
Him  for  their  utter  destruction*,  would  not  have  over- 
powered the  encouragement  derived  from  the  gracious 
1  mt  indefinite  communication. 

How  different  is  it  now,  when  there  is  a  daysman,  a 
Mediator,  betwixt  us  and  God.  There  is  no  diminished 
representation  of  the  divine  holiness  or  justice.  God  is 
not  made  to  appear  less  fearful  in  his  attributes.  But  it  is 
a  man  to  whom  we  have  to  flee,  a  man  to  whom  we  may 
address  ourselves,  a  man,  with  all  a  man'-  sympathy,  and 
all  a  man's  experience — oh.  how  can  the  sinner  fear  to 
come  to  the  Saviour,  when  that  Saviour  can  be  "touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,11  having  been  "tempted 
in  all  points,  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin  ?"     I  do  not 


116  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

know  whether  you  may  all  aj)preciate  the  difference ;  but 
I  am  sure  that  a  trembling  penitent,  casting  about  for  a 
possibility  of  deliverance,  will  feel  that  it  incalculably 
alters  the  case,  if,  after  saying  to  him,  go  to  God  as  to  a 
father,  I  add,  go  to  Him  through  "  the  man  Jesus  Christ1' 
as  a  Mediator.  Does  it  give  him  some  measure  of  hope, 
that  I  can  say  to  him,  God  is  not  inexorable,  He  can 
receive  you,  if  you  approach  Him  with  due  submission 
and  humility  ?  It  may :  but  much  of  fear  will  mingle 
with  his  hope ;  and  the  nearer  he  approaches,  the  more 
will  he  be  terrified  at  the  brightness  of  the  Lord.  But 
when  I  come  to  him  with  another  message ;  when  I  tell 
him  of  the  human  nature,  as  well  as  of  the  divine,  of 
the  Saviour,  then  will  he  be  encouraged  to  hope  and  ask 
at  once  for  forgiveness :  there  may  be  a  sound  as  of  that 
which  should  forbid  despair,  in  words  such  as  these,  "The 
Almighty  Lord  is  a  most  strong  tower  to  all  them  that 
put  their  trust  in  Him :"  but,  oh,  the  music  that  goes  to 
the  heart,  and  makes  it  thrill  with  delight,  is  in  language 
like  this,  "  A  man,"  "  the  man,"  "  shall  be  as  a  hiding-place 
from  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest." 

But  let  us  now  proceed  to  consider  with  what  justice 
or  propriety  the  several  assertions,  here  made,  may  be 
applied  to  our  Saviour,  to  the  "  man,  Christ  Jesus,"  on 
whom  we  are  taught  to  rest  every  hope  of  acceptance. 
There  are  four  assertions  in  the  text :  four  similes  are 
used  to  represent  to  us  the  offices  of  the  Redeemer,  or  the 
benefits  derived  to  us  through  his  gracious  Mediation. 
These  assertions  or  similes  are  not  indeed  all  different ;  on 
the  contrary,  there  is  great  similarity,  or  even  something 
like  repetition.     Thus,  "  a   hiding-place  from   the  wind," 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  117 

does  not  materially  differ  from  "  a  covert  from  the  tempest :" 
the  idea  is  the  same ;  and  there  is  only  that  variety  in  the 
mode  of  expression  which  accords  with  poetic  composition. 
Neither  is  "  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land," 
altogether  a  d liferent  image  :  the  idea  is  still  that  of  shelter, 
shelter  from  the  heat,  if  not  from  the  tempest.  Though 
it  might  perhaps  be  more  correct  to  say  that  there  are  two 
great  ideas  embodied  in  the  text,  and  that  there  are  two 
figures  for  the  illustration  of  each.  The  first  idea  is  that 
of  a  refuge  in  circumstances  of  danger;  and  this  is  illus- 
trated by  "  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,"  and  "  a  covert 
from  the  tempest."  The  second  idea  is  that  of  refreshment 
under  eircumstauces  of  fatigue;  and  this  is  illustrated  by 
"  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place,"  and  "  the  shadow  of  a 
great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  We  will  adhere  as  much  as 
possible  to  this  divisioD  of  the  text,  in  what  Ave  have  yet 
to  advance ;  though  there  is  one  thing,  common  to  three 
of  the  illustrations,  which  should  be  separately  and  care- 
fully considered. 

The  hiding-place,  the  covert,  and  the  rock,  give  shelter 
and  relief,  through  receiving  on  themselves  that  against 
which  they  defend  us.  The  tempest  beats  upon  the  tower, 
or  the  tree,  to  which  the  traveller  runs  from  the  fury  of 
the  elements :  the  fierce  rays-  of  the  sun  fall  upon  the 
rock,  beneath  which  he  thankfully  pauses,  when  almost 
fainting  from  the  heat.  It  is  true  indeed  that  the  hiding- 
place  and  the  rock,  in  affording  protection,  cannot  be  said 
to  suffer  inconvenience  :  they  are  evidently  not  sensible  to 
the  evil  which  they  serve  to  intercept,  and  thus  keep  away 
from  the  traveller.  But  something  similar  might  be  urged 
of  all  imagery,  which,  derived  from  what  is  material  and 


118  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

inanimate,  is  brought  to  the  illustration  of  the  offices  of 
the  Kedeemer.  And  our  business  is  to  refine,  as  it  were, 
and  spiritualize  the  imagery,  that  so,  if  possible,  we  may 
disencumber  it  of  what  is  dead  and  insensible,  and  make  it 
burn,  and  breathe  with  life  and  sensation.  Thus,  if  the 
hiding-place  and  the  rock  do  not  feel  the  storm  and  the 
heat,  from  which  they  serve  to  give  shelter,  yet,  when 
they  are  given  as  images  of  Christ,  we  ought,  as  it  were, 
to  endow  them  with  sensibility ;  so  that,  over  and  above 
the  idea  of  evils  intercepted,  which  they  naturally  furnish, 
we  may  derive  that  of  evils  endured,  which  is  equally 
needful  to  the  completeness  of  the  figure.  And  when  once 
you  draw  this  latter  idea  from  the  similes  employed  in  our 
text,  when  you  consider  that  the  hiding-place,  the  covert, 
and  the  rock,  can  yield  shelter  and  protection,  only  through 
receiving  on  themselves  what  they  divert  or  turn  away 
from  us ;  indeed  it  were  a  dull  imagination — to  speak 
more  truly,  it  were  a  cold  heart — which  does  not  instantly 
recognise  the  appropriateness  of  the  figure,  as  taken  in 
illustration  of  the  Lord  our  Redeemer.  For  who  does  not 
know,  who,  knowing  it,  does  not  confess  with  gratitude 
and  awe,  that  Christ  Jesus  placed  Himself,  as  it  were, 
between  the  sinner  and  that  eternal  wrath  which  his  sins 
had  provoked,  and,  by  allowing  the  wrath  to  break  on 
Himself,  kept  it  from  rushing  forwards  to  overwhelm  the 
world  ?  How  was  it  that  Christ  "  redeemed  us  from  the 
curse  of  the  law,"  except  through  being  "  made  a  curse  for 
us?"  How  came  the  sword  to  be  sheathed,  which  our 
iniquities  had  caused  to  be  drawn,  except  through  the 
execution  of  the  command,  "  Awake,  O  sword,  against  my 
shepherd,  and  against  the  man  that  is  my  fellow,  saith  the 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  119 

Lord  of  Hosts  ?"  How  was  it  brought  to  pass,  that  the 
sinful  may  escape  the  everlasting  penalties  of  sin,  except 
through  God's  having  "  bruised  and  put  to  grief"  his  only 
and  well-beloved  Son,  except  through  the  Son's  having 
"  borne  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree  ?"  The  power 
and  the  preciousness  of  the  scheme  of  our  Redemption  lie 
mainly  in  this,  that  there  was  actual,  substitution,  that 
Christ  Jesus  stood  in  our  place,  so  that  there  descended 
upon  Him  what,  but  for  so  mighty  an  intervention,  must 
for  ever  have  been  descending  on  ourselves.  That  Christ 
endured  and  obeyed  in  our  stead,  as  our  surety  and  repre- 
sentative ;  that  lie  did  not  merely  avert  from  us  God's 
wrath,  but  averted  by  exhausting  it,  receiving  it  all  in  his 
own  divine  person — this  it  is  which  enables  the  believer 
to  look  with  confidence  to  God  as  having  reconciled  him  to 
Himself;  fortius  it  is,  which,  as  proving  that  every  demand 
on  the  sinner  has  been  discharged  to  the  last  fraction, 
proves  also  that  "there  is  now  no  condemnation  to  them 
that  are  in  Jesus  Christ." 

But  how  ought  it  to  melt  the  heart,  how  to  excite  in  us 
emotions  of  ardent  gratitude  and  love,  to  remember  at 
what  a  cost,  and  through  what  an  endurance,  the  Lord 
our  Redeemer  procured  our  deliverance  !  It  is  marvellous, 
as  it  is  melancholy,  that  the  simple  statements,  Christ  died 
for  us,  Christ  gave  Himself  for  us,  should  fall,  as  they 
commonly  do,  on  listless  ears,  and  languid  affections.  One 
would  think,  to  see  with  what  coldness  and  indifference 
such  statements  can  be  heard,  that  Christ  had  redeemed 
us  at  no  personal  sacrifice,  that  He  had  paid  our  ransom  in 
treasures  which  He  could  produce  by  a  word,  and  multiply 
without  effort.     Whereas  he  redeemed  us  by  sorrows  such 


120  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

as  no  other  human  being  ever  felt ;  by  an  agony  of  which 
it  is  fearful  to  read;  by  unknown  pains,  by  inscrutable 
torments  of  the  body,  by  mysterious  darkness  and  desola- 
tion of  soul.  Remember  this,  when  you  hear,  or  read,  or 
think,  of  Christ  Jesus  as  a  refuge.  If  He  be  that  city, 
figured  by  cities  of  old,  to  which  the  man-slayer  might  flee, 
when  pursued  by  the  avenger  of  blood,  remember  that  He 
did  not  build  the  city  of  wood  or  of  stone ;  He  built  it,  as 
it  were,  of  his  own  broken  body,  and  cemented  it  with  his 
own  precious  blood.  And  when  you  admire  such  passages 
as  our  text,  which,  with  great  variety  of  similitude  set 
forth  the  Saviour  as  the  Being  to  whom  we  must  turn,  if 
we  would  escape  the  bitter  pains  of  everlasting  death,  oh, 
fail  not  to  give  due  force  to  the  figures,  by  failing  to  observe 
how  they  suppose  Christ  to  have  incurred  what  He  enables 
us  to  avoid ;  it  may  soften  what  is  yet  hard  in  the  heart, 
it  may  warm  what  is  yet  cold,  to  call  to  mind  that  "  a 
man,"  "  the  man,"  had  to  receive  on  Himself  all  the  terri- 
bleness  of  the  hurricane,  all  the  fierceness  of  the  fire,  ere 
that  man  could  be  "  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  a 
covert  from  the  tempest,  and  as  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land." 

But  having  thus  shown  you  how  the  emblems,  adopted 
in  our  text,  exhibit  Christ  as  enduring,  in  his  own  person, 
the  evils  from  which  he  shields  and  shelters  his  people,  we 
have  yet  to  expand  the  two  ideas  of  protection  in  danger, 
and  refreshment  in  fatigue,  which,  as  we  have  already  ex- 
plained, these  emblems  embody.  "  A  hiding-place  from 
the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest,"  if  our  blessed 
Saviour  be  these,  then  are  we  to  consider  ourselves  as 
travellers  through  some  wide  desert,  where,  overtaken  by 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  121 

a  hurricane,  we  are  in  danger  of  being  buried  in  the  sand 
which  rises  on  all  sides  with  tumultuous  swell ;  or  as  mar- 
iners on  a  tempestuous  sea,  whose  bark  must  soon  founder, 
if  no  haven  be  at  hand.  For  scriptural  figures,  if,  under 
one  point  of  view,  they  represent  to  us  Christ,  under  an- 
other must  represent  to  us  ourselves ;  and  it  is  simply  be- 
cause there  is  so  little  feeling  of  our  own  actual  condition, 
that  there  is  so  little  appreciation  of  the  characters  under 
which  the  Saviour  is  described.  It  is  almost  useless  to 
speak  of  "  a  refuge"  to  a  man,  who  lias  no  consciousness  of 
being  in  any  danger ;  a  refuge  must  imply  that  there  is 
something  to  flee  from  as  well  as  a  place  to  flee  to ;  and  he 
who  does  not  feel  that  there  is  peril  to  be  escaped,  what 
ear  can  he  have  for  tidings  of  a  covert,  beneath  which  he 
maybe  safe?  The  words,  "I  am  the  good  Shepherd," 
have  little  beauty  or  interest  for  the  man  who  does  not 
yet  feel  himself  a  wandering  sheep,  torn  with  the  briers 
and  thorns  of  the  wilderness.  But,  oh,  how  exquisitely 
will  they  sound,  when  once  he  comes  to  himself,  when  he 
feels  that  he  has  gone  astray,  and  would  fain,  if  he  could, 
return  to  the  fold. 

It  is,  and  it  must  be,  the  same  with  all  the  imagery  of 
Redemption.  Christ  is  represented  by  certain  figures ;  but 
those  figures  suppose  us  in  a  particular  state,  and  conscious 
of  that  state ;  othenvise  it  is  impossible  that  there  should 
be  appropriateness  in  the  figures ;  at  least,  that  this  appro- 
priateness should  commend  itself  to  our  feelings.  Thus 
with  the  emblems,  or  similes,  of  our  text — are  there  any 
of  you  to  whom  they  do  not  seem  to  possess  much  of  suit- 
ableness or  force  ?  it  must  be  because  you  are  not  yet 
alive  to  your  danger,  practically  not  aware  of  the  position 


122  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

which  you  occupy  as  transgressors  of  God's  law.  What  is 
this  position  ?  My  brethren,  as  the  descendants  of  Adam, 
through  whose  disobedience  death  passed  upon  all,  we 
were  born  into  the  world,  children  of  wrath,  and  under 
the  condemnation  of  God.  And  though,  as  baptized  into 
the  Christian  Church,  we  were  delivered  from  the  guilt  of 
original  sin,  and  endowed  with  grace  which  might  have 
kept  us  in  that  holy  fellowship  into  which  we  had  been 
brought,  it  is  probably  but  too  true  of  all  of  us,  that  we 
grew  up  in  the  practice  of  many  known  sins,  that,  in  place 
of  holding  fast  our  privileges,  we  virtually  gave  ourselves 
to  the  service  of  Satan,  or  sold  ourselves  again  under  the 
yoke  from  which  we  had  been  graciously  delivered.  And 
therefore,  notwithstanding  the  work  of  Redemption,  not- 
withstanding the  regeneration  of  baptism,  is  every  uncon- 
verted man,  every  man  who  is  not  labouring  to  live  as  a 
Christian,  exposed  to  the  wrath  of  a  righteous  God,  cer- 
tain, if  he  die  without  repentance,  to  have  to  bear  that 
wrath  through  Eternity.  The  thing  wanted,  is,  that  any 
man  amongst  you,  who  may  be  living  unconcernedly  in  sin, 
should  be  made  to  feel  this.  I  speak  parables  to  that 
man,  in  speaking  of  a  Saviour,  till  he  be  made  to  feel  this. 
But  let  him  once  be  roused  to  a  perception  of  the  facts  of 
the  case,  and  he  is  in  utter  alarm  at  the  perils  by  which  he 
sees  himself  surrounded.  When  conscience,  acted  on  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  whose  instrument  it  is,  wakes  up  from 
slumber,  and  forces  on  a  man  his  many  and  multifold 
offences,  there  will  be  no  peace  for  that  man,  till  he  hear 
of  an  advocate,  a  surety,  a  propitiation.  For,  along  with 
the  conviction  of  sin,  there  will  be  a  sense-  of  such  holiness 
and  justice  in  the  invisible  God,  as  must  quite  preclude 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  123 

hope  of  sin  being  overlooked,  or  allowed  to  pass  without 
heavy  punishment.  And  the  awakened  sinner,  whatever 
the  thoughts  which  he  may  for  a  moment  indulge,  will 
quickly  discover  that  there  can  "be  no  virtue  in  his  repent- 
ance to  the  procuring  forgiveness ;  inasmuch  as  a  broken 
law  derives  no  satisfaction,  whether  from  sorrow  for  the 
past,  or  from  obedience  for  the  future.  So  that  there  will 
soon  be  presented  to  him  no  imagery  but  that  of  danger 
and  death  ;  he  will  see  that  he  has  arrayed  against  himself 
the  attributes  of  God;  and  that  he  is  therefore  in  the 
position  of  one,  over  whom  the  clouds  are  gathering,  and 
round  whom  the  winds  are  rising,  whilst  he  is  far  away 
from  any  shelter,  and  may  expect  nothing  but  the  being 
swept  down  by  the  fury  of  the  hurricane. 

Must,  then,  those  clouds  break  on  his  devoted  head  ? 
must  those  winds  come  against  him  in  their  unrestrained 
force?  oh,  now  is  the  time  for  displaying  the  Saviour: 
now  is  the  time  for  the  exhortation,  "  Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  !"  The 
clouds  need  not  empty  their  indignation  on  thee,  O  terri- 
fied sinner.  The  winds  need  not  wreck  their  fierceness 
upon  thee.  The  wrath  of  God,  which  thine  iniquities 
have  provoked,  has  already  been  poured  upon  one  who 
acted  as  thy  surety,  thy  substitute.  In  and  through  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  "  died  the  just  for  the  unjust," 
God  can  receive  thee  as  a  Father,  extend  to  thee  forgive- 
ness, avert  from  thee  all  anger,  reconcile  thee  with  love. 
Flee,  then,  to  this  Saviour :  hasten  to  Him  for  shelter :  and 
oh,  as  you  seek  in  Christ  what  shall  certainly  be  found  in 
Him,  but  found  in  none  else,  you  will  need  no  one  to 
explain  to  you,  though  you  may  have  heretofore  but  little 


124  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect. 

appreciated  the  beauty,  the  power,  the  gloriousness  of 
the  saying,  "  A  man,"  "  the  man,"  "  shall  be  as  a  hiding- 
place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest." 

But  we  come  now,  in  the  last  place,  to  the  second  main 
idea  embodied  in  the  imagery  of  our  text — that  of  refresh- 
ment under  circumstances  of  fatigue.     The  character  of 
Christ,  which  we  have  just  been  considering,  is  that  under 
which  He  specially  displays  Himself  at  the  time  of  a  man's 
conversion :  not,  indeed,  that  then  only  is  He  a  refuge — 
for  what  is  genuine  religion  but  a  ceaseless  flying  from 
ourselves   to   Christ  ? — but    that   then  there    is    peculiar 
appropriateness  in  his  discovering  Himself  as  a  hiding- 
place  ;  forasmuch  as  then  there  is  peculiar  consciousness  of 
exposure  to  utter  destruction.     And  if  the  first  great  idea 
in  our  text  commend  itself  specially  to  men  at  the  moment 
of  awakening  from  spiritual  torpor,  the  second  may  be 
taken  as  specially  applicable  whilst  they  afterwards  pursue 
a  Heavenward  course.     Not  that,  here  again,  the  idea,  or 
the  imagery,  is  out  of  place,  if  introduced  at  the  moment 
of  conversion :    for  at  such  a  moment  the  man  needs  re- 
freshment as  well   as  protection :    but,  on  the  whole,   a 
traveller,  fainting  in  the  desert,  is  an  apter  figure  of  the 
believer,  as  he  toils  on  in  the  way  of  God's  commandments, 
than  of  the  sinner,  when  first  made  aware  of  his  error  and 
danger.     Who  of  you,  if  it  be  indeed  his  endeavour  to  fol- 
low them  who  "through  faith  and   patience  inherit  the 
promises,"  is  not  often  conscious  of  the  fatigues  of  the  way, 
so  that,  like  a  man  oppressed  with  heat,  and  overcome  of 
thirst,  he  is  almost  tempted  to  lie  down  at  once,  and  give 
up  his  journey  in  despair  ? 

There  are  so  many  difficulties  to  encounter — for  woe  is 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  125 

unto  tliera  who  think  it  an  easy  thing  to  save  the  soul — 
so  many  trials,  so  many  temptations  ;  the  path  is  often  so 
rough,  and  the  noontide  sun  so  fierce  ;  that  no  wonder  if 
creatures,  compassed  with  infirmity,  feel  at  times  as  if  it 
were  well  nigh  impossible  to  make  further  progress.     Oh 
for  fountains  in  this  parched  desert !  oh  for  shelter  from 
these  scorching  rays  !     And  must  such  wishes  be  breathed 
in  vain  ?     What  then  is  Christ  ?     Did  not  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  open  the  eyes  of  Hagar  in  the  wilderness,  and  she 
saw  a  well  of  water  ?  and  is  any  thing  more  needed  than 
the  opening  of  your  eyes,  and  the  fixing  them  on  the 
Saviour,  in  order  to  your  finding  in  Him  all  that  you  want 
in  your  faintness  and  exhaustion  ?     "  A  man  ;"  "  The  man" 
"  shall  be  as  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow 
of  a  great  rock   in  a  weary  land."     The  beauty  of  this 
imagery  would  be  more  felt  in  an  Eastern  country,  where 
vast  deserts  of  sand  have  often  to  be  traversed,  and  that 
too  beneath  the  rays  of  a  sun  which  it  is  almost  deatli  to 
encounter  in  its  noontide    strength.      But  we  all  know 
enough  of  the  condition,  in  which  the  imagery  supposes  the 
traveller,  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  promise  of  refresh- 
ment.    And  is  not  the  promise  one  which  is  made  good 
in  Christ  ?     Through  Christ,  as  the  fruit  of  his  passion,  the 
result  of  his  intercession,  we  obtain  those  supports  and 
consolations  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  leave  no  wound 
without  its   balm,  no  sorrow  without  its  solace.     These 
comnumi cations    of   the  Spirit,    flowing    through    Christ, 
are  verily  as   "  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place ;"  he  who 
opens  to  them  his  heart  obtains  "  a  peace  which  passeth 
all  understanding,"  a  peace  which  not  only  subsists  in  the 
midst,  and  even  in  spite  of  opposition,  enmity,  disaster, 


126  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  [Lect 

but  which  seems  actually  to  be  multiplied  by  troubles ; 
troubles  appear  to  arise  that  Christian  peace  may  spring 
from  them ;  if  "  a  dry  place"  occur,  it  is  that  waters  may 
gush  forth,  not  in  streamlets,  but  in  rivers. 

Such  is  the  fulness  which  there  is  in  Christ ;  oh  that 
none  of  you  would  think  of  slaking  the  soul's  thirst  at  any 
other  source  !  "  the  water,"  saith  the  Redeemer,  "  that  I 
shall  give  him,  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water,  springing 
up  into  everlasting  life."  And  if  fierce  trials  invade  us, 
if  earthly  comforts  wither,  as  withered  the  prophet's 
gourd,  and,  like  Jonah,  we  seem  left  without  shelter  from 
the  intolerable  heat,  what  have  we  to  do  but  turn  to  the 
Redeemer,  that  great  High  Priest,  who  can  be  "  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ?"  "  Shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land,"  we  have  but  to  come  within  thy 
circuit,  and  "  the  sun  shall  not  smite  us  by  day,  neither 
the  moon  by  night."  He  who  always  stands,  if  we  may 
use  the  expression,  close  by  Christ,  secures  for  himself  that 
"  all  things  work  together  for  his  good  ;"  though,  if  he 
ever  leave  the  Redeemer,  if  ever  he  be  tempted  to  wander 
from  his  side,  then  it  is  with  him,  just  as  it  is  with  the 
man  who  quits  his  place  beneath  the  rock ;  he  meets  the 
heat  in  its  intenseness ;  there  is  nothing  to  cool  the  air, 
and  he  has  only  himself  to  blame  if  he  sink  under  the 
force,  the  unmitigated  force,  of  the  tempest. 

But  a  rock  is  stationary,  and  we  are  pilgrims ;  we  must 
be  on  the  advance  through  the  desert ;  and  how  can  we  be 
always  standing  "beneath  the  rock  ?  Ah,  my  brethren,  do 
you  not  remember  how  St.  Paul  describes  Christ,  when 
speaking  of  the  wanderings  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness? 
"They  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  that  followed  them, 


VI.]  A  MAN  A  HIDING-PLACE.  1  27 

and  that  rock  was  Christ."  The  rock  goes  with  us ;  it  is 
always  as  a  wall  to  us ;  if  we  ever  lose  its  shadow,  it  is 
because  we  stray  beyoud  appointed  limits,  into  forbidden 
ground;  not  because,  in  our  necessary  progress,  we  are 
forced  to  leave  behind  what  gave  refreshment  and  shelter. 
The  believer  cannot  be  where  duty  allows  of  his  being, 
and  yet  be  where  Christ  is  not  ready  to  be  found  at  his 
side.  The  sun  has  only  to  be  fierce,  and  the  rock  rises 
where  there  had  seemed  only  an  interminable  plain.  The 
privileges  of  a  believer  are  not  those  of  exemption  from 
trouble  and  freedom  from  danger ;  but  they  are  those  of 
support  under  all  affliction,  and  deliverance  from  all  peril. 
Would  there  were  a  greater  sense  amon*gst  us  of  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  the  Saviour !  We  do  not  prize  Him,  we  do  not 
love  Him,  the  thousandth  part  we  ought.  These,  our  cold 
hearts,  give  Him  cold  returns  for  his  marvellous  benevo- 
lence. O  for  a  more  ardent  devotedness !  O  for  more  of 
spiritual  thirst,  for  more  of  the  feeling  of  faintness  as 
"  strangers  and  pilgrims  upon  earth !"  We  drink  too 
much  at  polluted  fountains,  forgetting  that  all  our  springs 
are  in  Christ.  But  the  thirsty,  the  fainting — and  such  we 
ought  to  be,  such  we  are  by  profession — will  they  not 
daily  value  more,  yet  daily  mourn  that  they  value  so  little, 
"  a  man,"  "  the  man,"  who  makes  Himself  as  "  rivers  of 
water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a 
weary  land  ?" 


LECTURE  VII. 


€§i  ItnteWnli  !Uramji«. 


Matt.  xix.  29. 


"  And  every  one  that  hath  forsaken  bouses,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother, 
or  -wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold,  and 
shall  inherit  everlasting  life." 

These  are  the  words  of  our  blessed  Redeemer ;  and  they 
were  called  forth  by  an  assertion  and  a  question  of  St. 
Peter,  "Behold,  we  have  forsaken  all,  and  followed  thee; 
what  shall  we  have  therefore  V  The  Apostles  had,  for 
the  most  part,  been  taken  from  amongst  the  poor  and 
illiterate :  in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  they  had  made  no 
very  considerable  sacrifice,  in  abandoning  their  boats  and 
nets,  and  devoting  themselves  to  the  service  of  one  who 
"  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  But  it  is  well  worth 
your  observing  that  Christ,  in  no  degree,  depreciates  the 
amount  of  the  sacrifice  which  had  been  made  in  his  cause : 
his  answer  merely  bears  on  the  remunerating  power  of 
God,  on  the  certainty  that  they  who,  for  the  sake  of 
religion,  gave  up  any  thing  which  they  loved,  should  find 
themselves,  perhaps  in  the  present  life,  undoubtedly  in. the 
next,  immeasurably  recompensed.     There  was  something 


THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.         129 

almost  of  a  complaining  tone  in  the  interrogation  of  St. 
Peter :  he  seems  to  magnify  what  had  been  surrendered, 
as  though  he  were  almost  in  doubt  whether  a  thorough 
equivalent  would  ever  be  received.  Christ  immediately 
speaks  of  "a  hundredfold,"  as  if  to  scatter,  and  put  to 
shame,  the  suspicion  that  a  man  could  ever  be  eventually 
a  loser  by  what  he  lost  for  God. 

We  wish  to  fasten  on  this  reply  of  our  Lord,  as  fur- 
nishing guidance  for  us  in  our  endeavours  to  act  upon  men, 
and  persuade  them  to  give  heed  to  religion.  It  will  not 
do,  constituted  as  men  are,  to  enlarge  to  them  abstractedly 
on  the  beautv  of  holiness,  and  on  the  satisfaction  derivable 
from  a  conscience  at  rest.  They  are  not  to  be  persuaded 
that  virtue  is  in  any  such  sense  its  own  reward,  that  it 
were  better  for  them  to  be  self-denying  than  self-indulgent, 
even  if  there  were  nothing  to  be  brought  into  account  but 
the  amount  of  actual  enjoyment.  They  feel,  that,  in 
asking  them  to  be  religious,  we  ask  them  to  renounce  some 
good,  and  endure  some  evil ;  and  they  demand,  with  some 
show  of  justice,  that  we  rigidly  prove  to  them  that  they 
shall  be  gainers  by  doing  as  we  urge.  And  hence  the 
theology  which  is  likely  to  prevail  with  them — and  cer- 
tainly this  is  the  character  of  the  Scriptural  theology — 
is  one  which  insists  much  on  "the  recompense  of  the 
reward ;"  and  which,  whilst  it  gives  no  quarter  to  the 
pleasures  of  sin,  and  insists  unreservedly  on  the  not  setting 
the  heart  on  perishable  treasures,  plies  them  with  repre- 
sentations of  a  heavenly  kingdom,  and  dims  the  present 
by  unfolding  the  radiance  of  the  future. 

We  are  assured  indeed  that  no  terms  of  reprobation 
can  be  too  strong  for  the  folly  of  the  man  who  is  deterred 


13(3  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

from  religion  by  the  sacrifices  which  it  exacts.  But  our 
assurance  is  not  drawn  from  an  opinion  that  the  sacrifices 
are  in  themselves  inconsiderable  ;  but  simply  from  the 
certainty,  that,  even  in  this  life,  these  mortifications  are 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  comforts  of  religion, 
and  that,  in  the  next,  they  will  be  a  thousandfold  recom- 
pensed. The  yoke  of  Christ  is  easy,  and  his  burden  is 
light:  but  nevertheless  there  is  a  yoke,  and  there  is  a 
burden.  And  when  we  read  of  taking  up  the  cross,  and 
following  Christ;  of  forsaking  all  that  we  may  be  his 
disciples ;  of  cutting  off  the  right  hand,  and  plucking  out 
the  right  eye,  which  may  offend ;  it  were  not  easy  to  deny, 
that  "  if  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are 
of  all  men  most  miserable."  It  must  therefore  be  right 
that,  in  dealing  with  men,  we  labour  to  convince  them 
how  immeasurably  it  will  be  for  their  advantage,  notwith- 
standing the  confessed  sacrifices  which  obedience  must 
entail,  to  hearken  to  the  call  which  summons  them  to 
forsake  all  for  Christ.  We  shall  endeavour,  on  the  present 
occasion,  to  set  before  you  this  fact  under  various,  but  all 
practical,  points  of  view.  Our  subject  of  discourse  may 
therefore  be  understood  without  further  preface ;  we 
should  perhaps  only  hamper  it,  were  we  to  propose  any 
methodical  arrangement.  We  are  simply  about  to  illus- 
trate the  mode  of  dealing  adopted  by  our  Lord,  when 
Peter  seemed  disposed  to  make  much  of  the  sacrifices 
which  he  had  made  for  religion — not  the  mode  of  depre- 
ciating, or  undervaluing  those  sacrifices ;  but  that  of  mag- 
nifying the  remunerating  power  of  God — "  every  one  that 
hath  forsaken  houses,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or 
mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake, 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  131 

shall  receive  an  hundredfold,  and  shall  inherit  everlasting 
life." 

Now  we  begin  with  the  case  of  the  young,  who,  with 
life  just  opening  before  them,  and  the  attractions  of  the 
world  soliciting  their  pursuit,  are  urged  to  the  duty  of  re- 
membering their  Creator,  and  setting  their  affections  on 
things  that  are  above.  We  shall  not  deny  that  there  is 
something  apparently  harsh  and  repulsive  in  a  message 
which  demands  of  those,  in  whom  the  passions  are  strong, 
and  the  spirits  elastic  with  the  hope  that  the  scenes,  on 
which  they  are  entering,  will  yield  unlimited  pleasure,  that 
they  renounce  what  they  are  just  beginning  to  enjoy,  and 
forsake  all  with  which  they  have  just  formed  a  friendship. 
We  cannot  expect  to  gain  at  first  a  favourable  hearing, 
when  we  come  down  upon  persons,  who  have  not  known 
the  bitterness  of  disappointment,  and  to  whom  the  objects 
of  sense,  and  the  delights  of  earth,  are  wearing  all  that 
beauty  which  is  soon  worn  off  by  trial — and  require  of 
them  that  they  "  crucify  the  flesh  with  its  affections  and 
lusts,"  and  "love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that 
are  in  the  world." 

Indeed  they  are  free  agents,  and  may,  if  they  will, 
decide  for  the  world  in  preference  to  God.  But  we  give 
them  fair  warning :  it  is  virtually  between  God  and  Satan 
that  you  are  asked  to  decide,  between  Heaven  and  Hell 
that  you  are  invited  to  choose.  And  if,  by  the  energy  of 
remonstrance  and  warning,  we  prevail  on  the  young  to 
hesitate,  ere  they  continue  the  course  we  denounce,  then 
presently  the  thought  of  all  which  we  ask  them  to  surren- 
der comes  upon  them  with  great  power,  and  they  feel  as 
though  it  vere  unreasonable  to  urge  them  to  such  sacrifice. 


132  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

If  they  hearken  to  our  admonition,  they  must  separate 
themselves  from  associations  in  which  they  find  great  de- 
light. They  must  probably  exchange  the  smile  and  good- 
will for  the  frown  and  opposition  of  those  whom  they  love. 
They  must  abstain  from  pleasures  most  congenial  with 
their  tastes,  and  from  practices  which  promise  them  ad- 
vancement.  They  must  not  seek  the  wealth  which  is  most 
sparkling,  nor  drink  of  the  stream  which  is  most  inviting, 
nor  pursue  the  honour  which  is  most  alluring.  We  put 
it  to  the  young  amongst  you,  who  may  not  be  wholly 
indifferent  to  the  saving  of  the  soul,  who  may  have  occa- 
sional misgivings  as  to  the  wisdom  and  safety  of  protract- 
ing that  friendship  with  the  world,  which  is  declared  in 
Scripture  to  be  "  enmity  with  God,"  we  put  it  to  you  to 
decide  whether  it  be  not  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and  the 
treasures  of  earth,  which  you  are  reluctant  to  lose.  We 
should  have  you  quickly  on  our  side,  and  you  would  enter 
on  a  religious  profession,  if  it  were  not  that  so  much  which 
you  love  must  be  forsaken,  so  much,  of  which  you  are  in 
eager  pursuit,  be  abandoned,  as  unworthy  your  regards. 
And  how  are  we  to  meet  you  when  taking  this  position  of 
resistance  ?  It  will  be  of  little  use  that  we  expatiate  on 
the  unsatisfactoriness  of  your  pleasures,  and  endeavour  to 
win  you  from  the  world  by  proving  it  delusive.  You  will 
have  no  ear  for  this  kind  of  argument.  All  your  senses, 
and  passions,  and  appetites,  and  hopes,  protest  against  our 
reasoning:  you  will  find  delight  in  what  we  ask  you  to 
resign,  and  we  shall  make,  therefore,  no  way  by  plying  you 
with  proof  that  it  cannot  yield  happiness. 

We  do  not,  therefore,  press  upon  the 'young,  that  what 
we  ask  them  to  surrender  is  not  worth  being  kept,  or  what  to 


VII.]         THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.         133 

endure  not  worth  the  being  reckoned.  We  may  have  our 
own  conviction  on  this  matter ;  but  we  do  not  expect  them 
to  adopt  this  conviction,  if  it  have  not  yet  been  forced  on 
them  by  experience.  We  must  try  another  method — Christ 
did  not  tell  Peter  that  the  boat  and  the  net  were  worth 
but  little  at  the  most.  We  rather  allow  the  extent  of  the 
sacrifice,  and  frankly  admit  that  it  is  asking  much,  to  ask 
the  young  to  give  up  the  allurements  and  pleasures  of  the 
world.  But  then  we  have  a  high  ground  to  take,  when 
we  have  abandoned  that  of  the  little  value  of  what  they 
have  to  lose.  We  have  to  take  the  ground  of  a  recom- 
pense being  in  store,  which  shall  be  immeasurably  more 
than  an  equivalent  for  all  which  they  renounce,  and  all 
which  they  endure.  We  say  to  them,  it  is  true,  you  must 
renounce  cherished  gratifications,  and  we  do  not  suppose 
that  you  can  go  along  with  us  in  despising  and  decrying 
those  gratifications.  You  must  cease  to  seek  your  wealth 
in  earthly  treasure,  and  your  honour  in  earthly  fame ;  and 
you  are  not  yet  prepared  to  regard  that  treasure  as  dross, 
and  that  fame  as  a  meteor.  But  in  whose  cause,  and  at 
whose  command,  are  you  summoned  to  the  sacrifice  ?  Is 
it  for  the  service  of  one  who  has  nothing  to  bestow,  that 
we  ask  you  to  exchange  the  service  of  Satan  ?  Is  it  to 
make  friendship  with  a  being  who  has  nothing  great,  and 
nothing  good,  at  his  disposal,  that  we  urge  you  ?  And 
are  all  the  advantages  which  your  nature  can  solicit  and 
appreciate,  on  the  side  of  that  alliance  which  we  entreat 
you  to  dissolve  ? 

On  the  contrary,  we  address  you  in  the  name  of  the 
living  God,  whose  is  the  earth,  and  the  fulness  thereof. 
We  invite  you  to  be  reconciled  to  the  Creator,  who  can 


134  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

supply  all  your  wants  out  of  his  riches  in  Christ.  We 
offer  you  the  favour  of  a  being  who  can  impart  "  a  peace, 
which  passeth  all  understanding,"  a  hope  full  of  immor- 
tality, and  a  joy  with  which  no  stranger  intermeddles. 
We  propose  to  you  the  placing  yourselves  under  the 
guardianship  of  Him,  on  whom  wait  the  eyes  of  all  in 
every  district  of  immensity,  who  hath  spread  out  the 
heavens,  and  garnished  the  earth,  at  whose  right  hand  are 
pleasures  for  evermore,  whose  is  the  treasure  which  the 
moth  cannot  corrupt,  and  the  thief  cannot  rifle,  and  whose 
promise  it  is,  a  promise  immutable  as  Himself,  that  they 
who  are  faithful  to  the  end  shall  be  throned  in  blessedness, 
and  receive  a  crown  that  fadeth  not  away.  And  are  we 
then  to  hear  of  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice,  and  to  hear 
nothing  of  the  wealth  and  happiness  secured  by  the 
sacrifice?  Are  we  to  be  told  of  the  treasures  of  earth, 
and  to  hear  nothing  of  the  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
talents  of  gold,  which  are  the  inheritance  of  those  who  will 
break  league  with  the  world  and  its  idols  ?  Oh,  let  us 
speak  of  something  besides  the  boat  and  the  net.  It  is  to 
your  zeal  for  your  own  interests,  to  your  love  for  your  own- 
selves,  to  your  wish  for  riches,  to  your  appetite  for  honours, 
to  your  longing  for  pleasures,  that  we  make  our  appeal. 
We  address  ourselves  to  the  young,  whilst  yet  in  the 
spring-time  of  their  days,  and  we  ask  them  to  forego  no 
gratification,  for  which  we  do  not  offer  a  richer  and  more 
satisfying.  We  entreat  them  to  abandon  no  pursuit, 
without  opening  before  them  a  far  nobler  and  more  engross- 
ing. We  summon  them  to  no  act  of  self-denial,  which. is 
not  as  nothing  in  comparison  of  its  reward.  If  we  ask  the 
surrender  of  the  corruptible,  we  offer  the  incorruptible  ; 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  135 

of  the  transient,  we  offer  the  enduring;  of  the  visionary, 
we  offer  the  substantial.  We  bid  them  withdraw  affections 
from  objects  on  which  they  have  eagerly  fastened;  but  it 
is  that  we  may  direct  them  to  objects  unspeakably  better 
suited  to  engage  them:  we  bid  them  cease  to  employ  their 
powers  on  designs  in  which  they  are  intently  occupied ; 
but  it  is  that  we  may  turn  them  upon  others  which  are 
alone  commensurate  with  their  energy. 

And  thus  it  is  precisely  as  our  Lord  dealt  with  Peter, 
that  we  would  deal  with  the  young,  who  may  be  halting 
between  two  opinions,  and  have  a  difficulty  in  deciding 
to  surrender  what  they  love.  They  may  array  before  us, 
as  we  urge  them  to  religion,  the  pleasures  they  must 
resign,  the  advantages  they  must  forego,  the  connections 
they  must  dissolve,  and  the  hardships  they  must  endure, 
if  they  hearken  to  the  admonition,  and  dare  to  be  in  earn- 
est as  to  the  saving  of  the  soul.  But  we  have  only  one 
answer  to  return  to  their  every  statement ;  and  that  is  an 
answer  drawn  from  the  remunerating  power  of  God.  We 
tell  them,  that,  if,  with  Peter  and  the  other  Apostles,  they 
forsake  all  and  follow  the  Saviour,  and  then  propose  the 
question,  "  What  shall  we  have  ?"  there  is  a  glorious  reply, 
a  reply  which  should  make  them  ashamed  of  a  moment's 
hesitation,  "  Every  one  that  hath  forsaken  houses,  or  breth- 
ren, or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive 
a  hundredfold,  and  shall  inherit  eternal  life." 

We  go  on  to  observe,  and  there  cannot  be  many  in  this 
assembly,  whose  experience  does  not  bear  out  the  obser- 
vation, that  it  is  the  apparent  conflict  between  duty  and 
interest,  which  causes  us,  in  variety  of  cases,  to  disobey 
God,    and    withstand   the   pleadings   of  conscience.     We 


136  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

speak  of  apparent  conflict,  because  we  deny  altogether 
that  interest  and  duty  can  ever  be  really  opposed.  It  is 
but  vindicating  the  righteousness  of  God's  moral  govern- 
ment, to  maintain,  that,  whatever  He  has  made  it  our 
interest,  He  has  made  it  also  our  duty,  to  do.  But  whilst 
there  can  be  no  real  conflict  between  interest  and  duty,  we 
admit,  of  course,  that  there  will  be  often  an  apparent. 
Indeed,  the  world  would  cease  to  be  a  scene  of  probation, 
there  would  no  longer  be  any  trial  of  obedience,  were  it 
always  manifestly  for  our  advantage,  to  follow  the  course 
which  God's  law  prescribes.  It  is  only  by  carrying  on  our 
calculation,  and  bringing  the  future  as  well  as  the  present 
into  the  account,  that  we  reach  the  conclusion,  that  what 
is  duty  is,  in  the  long  run,  also  interest.  There  will  often 
be  a  great  deal  gained  for  the  moment  by  disobedience,  and 
therefore  a  great  deal  to  be  surrendered,  if  we  resolve  to 
obey.  And  though  we  can  be  confident,  that  it  is  merely 
for  the  moment  that  any  thing  like  advantage  results,  even 
in  appearance,  from  thwarting  the  dictates  whether  of 
conscience  or  of  Revelation,  yet  so  long  as  interest  and 
duty  may  thus  seem  to  lead  different  ways,  there  will 
necessarily  be  often  a  struggle  in  the  mind ;  and  it  will  be 
hard  to  do  what  is  right,  in  the  face  of  an  apparent  aclvan- 
tageousness  in  the  doing  what  is  wrong. 

And  what  we  want  you  again  to  consider,  is  the  correct 
way  of  dealing  with  men,  between  whose  interest  and 
duty  there  may  thus  seem  a  conflict — whether  it  be  not 
the  magnifying  the  remunerating  power  of  Him,  in  whose 
cause  the  sacrifice  is  made,  rather  than  that  of  depreciating 
the  sacrifice  itself — the  making  much  of  future  recompense, 
not  the  making  little  of  the  boat  and  the  net.     If  you  try 


THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.         13? 

the  latter  mode,  the  depreciating  the  required  sacrifice, 
you  are  immediately  opposed  by  the  strongest  feelings  of 
our  nature ;  and  the  man,  whom  you  attack,  is  not  only 
loth  to  surrender  what  he  values,  but  indignant  at  finding 
that  what  is  so  important  to  himself,  is  held  so  cheap  by 
another.  But  if  you  try  the  former  mode,  the  magnifying 
the  remunerating  power  of  Him  who  has  required  the  sac- 
rifice, you  make  the  attack  in  the  channel  through  which 
our  nature  is  most  accessible,  that  of  our  own  interest,  and 
the  probability  is  very  great,  that  the  wavering  will  be 
determined,  to  the  side  of  duty. 

We  may  refer,  in  illustration  of  this,  to  the  case  of  an 
individual  who  is  tempted  to  break  the  Sabbath,  because 
his  trade  is  then  likely  to  be  specially  gainful.  We  are 
not  insensible  to  the  strength  of  the  temptation  which 
presses  on  a  tradesman,  who  finds  it  hard  to  procure  a  live- 
lihood for  himself  and  his  family,  and  whose  business  will 
perhaps  yield  more  profit  on  the  Sunday,  than  can  be 
wrung  from  it  through  all  the  rest  of  the  week.  We 
are  quite  ready,  on  the  contrary,  to  regard  the  man  who 
for  conscience  sake  runs  apparently  the  risk  of  bringing 
starvation  on  his  family,  as  doing  something  quite  as  noble 
as  the  Apostles,  when  they  forsook  all  at  the  bidding  of 
the  Kedeemer.  For,  very  possibly,  it  is  in  humble  life 
that  the  greatest  demands  are  made  upon  faith  ;  and  men, 
in  obscure  stations,  of  whom  the  world  never  hears,  may 
have  the  hardest  tasks  to  perform,  and  the  greatest  sacri- 
fices to  make,  in  the  cause  of  God  and  religion.  We  will 
not  lavish  all  our  applause  and  admiration  on  such  as 
stand  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  Christianity,  and  whose 
names  are  conspicuous  amongst  the  champions  who  have 


138  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

done  and  suffered  much,  in  defending  truth  and  maintain- 
ing constancy.  We  will  not  confine  the  honours  of  mar- 
tyrdom to  those  who  have  gone  up  bravely  to  the  scaffold, 
and  unflinchingly  sealed  their  confession  with  their  blood. 
If  we  can  find  an  individual  who,  for  conscience  sake,  is 
exposing  himself  and  his  children  to  starvation  ;  who, 
rather  than  to  do  what  he  knows  to  be  wrong,  boldly 
shuts  up  the  avenues  of  subsistence — why,  we  affirm  of 
this  individual,  that  he  displays  all  the  staunchness  of  the 
martyr ;  and  we  would  not  more  give  our  reverence  and 
esteem  to  the  intrepid  confessor,  who  holds  fast  the  pro- 
fession of  his  faith  amid  the  battlings  of  persecution,  than 
to  the  poor  shopkeeper,  who  is  resolute  in  observing  the 
Sabbath,  when,  if  less  conscientious,  he  might  ward  off 
penury  from  his  little  ones. 

We  make  a  great  mistake,  when  we  confine  eminence 
in  religious  exploit  to  public  scenes,  and  turbid  times :  it 
is  in  the  loneliness  of  the  domestic  circle,  and  in  the  dis- 
charge of  the  most  commonplace  duty,  that  faith  often 
fights  its  hardest  battles,  and  wins  its  finest  triumphs. 
And  thus  are  we  far  enough  from  depreciating  the  trial 
which  that  man  is  called  to  undergo,  the  chief  part  of 
whose  gains  is  made  by  Sunday  traffic,  and  on  whom  con- 
science is  pressing  the  obligation  that  he  keep  holy  the 
Sabbath.  We  have  rather,  as  we  before  said,  a  great 
sympathy  with  this  man  ;  we  feel  that  he  is  summoned  to 
an  effort,  which  is  scarcely  to  be  estimated  by  such  as  are 
placed  in  comparative  affluence.  And  Ave  could  not  go 
into  his  shop,  to  remonstrate  with  him  on  the  duty  of 
abstaining  from  all  business  on  the  Sunday,  without  a 
painful  consciousness,  that  we  were  about  to  urge  on  him 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  139 

a  sacrifice,  such  as  we  had  never  perhaps  ourselves  been 
required  to  make,  and  to  prescribe  to  him  a  task,  for 
which,  in  like  circumstances,  we  might  prove  quite  incom- 
petent. 

But,  nevertheless,  the  duty  is  clear,  and  it  is  not  the 
difficulty  of  discharging  it  which  can  excuse  its  neglect. 
With  what  argument  then  shall  we  address  the  man,  who 
cannot  keep  the  Sabbath,  except  at  a  vast  risk  of  bringing 
starvation  on  his  household  ?     We  find  him  perhaps  dis- 
turbed in  mind,  forced  to  own  to  himself  that  his  conduct 
is  wrong,  but  deterred,  by  the  threatened  and  seemingly 
inevitable  consequence,  from  boldly  acting  on  his  convic- 
tion, and  closing  his  doors  on  his  Sunday  customers.     Now 
we  should  like  to  read  to  this  man,  as  he  leans  on  his 
counter,  and  tells  us  of  a  young  family,  and  of  a  scanty 
pittance  derived  mainly  from  the  traffic  of  the-  Sunday — 
we  should  like  to  read  to  him  the  account  how  Christ 
dealt  with  Peter,   when  disposed  to    dwell   on   sacrifices 
made  in  his  cause.     We  take  high  ground.     We  tell  him 
that  the  Being  who  delivered  the  law  of  the  Sabbath,  as 
He  can  and  will  punish  its  infraction,  so  He  can  and  will 
reward  its  observance.     We  tell  him,  that,  so  sure  as  the 
Bible  is  truth,  unto  them  that  "  seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  his  righteousness,"  shall  all  else  that  is  needful 
be  added.     We  are  certain,  that,  in  determining  at   all 
hazards  to  obey  the  Lord,  he  puts  himself  under  the  imme- 
diate protection  of  Him,  respecting  whom  it  is  declared, 
"The  young  lions  do  lack  and  suffer  hunger;  but  they 
that  seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want  any  good  thing."     We 
can  affirm,  without  a  jot  of  hesitation,  that,  in  resolving 
to  follow  duty,  without  consulting  interest,  he  engages  on 


140  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

his  side  the  succours  of  that  Providence,  which  cau  give 
bread  in  the  desert,  and  secures  to  himself  that  blessing 
which  emphatically  rnaketh  rich.  Are  we  then  to  be 
deterred  from  urging  on  the  man  that  he  keep  holy  the 
Sabbath,  by  the  greatness  of  the  surrender  involved  in 
obedience  ?  Are  we  to  be  fearful  of  enjoining  the  duty, 
in  all  its  strictness  and  sacredness,  as  though  we  were  not 
certified  that  the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath  is  the  Lord  also 
of  the  Creation ;  and  that,  having  at  his  disposal  whatever 
exists  in  the  universe,  He  hath  made  an  everlasting 
covenant  with  his  every  true  worshipper,  "I  will  never 
leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee  ?"  Oh,  the  waverer  between 
duty  and  interest  may  point  out  to  us  how  the  sustenance 
of  his  household  apparently  depends  on  the  traffic  which 
we  entreat  him  to  renounce,  and  he  may  speak  patheti- 
cally of  the  penury  which  threatens  to  come  in  like  an 
armed  man,  if  he  listen  to  our  advice — but  we  have  only 
one  thiug  to  say  against  all  this  dwelling  on  present 
advantage ;  and  that  one  thing  is  not  in  depreciation  of 
the  boat  and  the  net — but  simply  what  our  Lord  said  to 
Peter,  "  Every  one  that  hath  forsaken  houses,  or  brethren, 
or  sisters,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall 
receive  an  hundredfold,  and  shall  inherit  everlasting  life." 

Now  you  will  all  have  observed  for  yourselves  that,  in 
thus  examining  the  case  of  a  man,  whose  interest  seems  to 
demand  the  profanation  of  the  Sunday,  we  have  advanced 
truths  quite  as  applicable  in  many  other  instances.  There 
is  no  passage  of  Scripture  more  worthy  than  our  text,  to 
be  carried  with  them,  by  the  man  of  business  amongst 
you,  into  the  scenes  of  their  ordinary  occupation.  If 
David  could  say,  "Thy  word  have  I  hid  in  mine  heart, 


V.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.         141 

that  I  might  not  sin  against  thee,"  thus  implying  that 
Scripture  should  be  taken  with  us  as  a  safeguard  against 
evil,  we  are  sure  that  no  text  of  Scripture  can  be  better 
suited  than  the  one  now  before  us,  for  the  talisman  of  the 
merchant,  as  he  prosecutes  the  enterprises  of  commerce. 

We  may  believe  that  every  condition  of  life  has  its 
peculiar  temptations,  so  that,  whatever  our  circumstances 
and  employments,  there  will  be  a  full  share  of  moral  diffi- 
culties and  dangers.     But,  undoubtedly,  in  some  instances, 
the  temptations  are  more  marked  and  apparent  than  in 
others,  and  no  man  can  be  unaware  of  those  which  attach 
specially  to  mercantile  life.     There  is  no  exhibition,  which 
we  reckon  more  fraught  with  moral  beauty  and  greatness, 
than  that  of  commerce,  when  prosecuted  honourably  and 
conscientiously.     We  see  mixed  up  with  the  dealings  of 
commerce  the  grandest  purposes  of  God  towards  our  fallen 
creation.      It  has  been  made  for   the   advantage  of  the 
whole  world  that  there  should  be  a  perpetual  interchange 
of  property.      Every  country  might  have  been  its  own 
storehouse  of  every  necessary  and  every  comfort :  there 
might  have  been  nothing  to  be  found,  whether  for  use  or 
adornment,  in  the  whole  circuit  of  the  globe,  which  was 
not  equally  and  profusely  furnished  in  each  separate  prov- 
ince.    But  had  there  been,  as  there  might  have  been,  this 
uniformity  of  produce,  it  is  evident  that  nations  would 
have  had  little  cause  for  intercourse ;  and  that,  each  pos- 
sessing all  it  could  need  within  its    own   confines,  they 
would  comparatively  have  walled  themselves  off  the  one 
from  the  other.     As  it  is,  one  land  producing  one  thing 
and  another  another,  the  several  parts  of  the  human  family 
are  brought  into  association :  commerce  knits  together  the 


142  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

ends  of  the  earth,  and  may  therefore  justly  be  pronounced 
the  great  propagator  of  Christianity.  Therefore  is  it  that 
we  have  great  delight  in  the  movements  of  commerce. 
We  view  in  them  far  more  than  manifestations  of  the  rest- 
lessness of  cupidity,  and  the  cravings  of  luxury.  And 
when  the  ocean  is  before  us,  dotted  with  vessels,  which  are 
hastening  to  every  quarter  of  the  earth,  or  returning  with 
the  produce  of  far-off  islands  or  continents,  we  look  on  a 
nobler  spectacle  than  that  of  human  ingenuity  and  hardi- 
hood, triumphing  over  the  elements,  that  wealth  may  be 
accumulated,  or  appetite  pampered  :  we  are  beholding  the 
instrumentality  through  which  God  hath  ordained  that  the 
sections  of  the  human  family  should  be  kept  bound  to- 
gether ;  and  the  preparation  which  He  hath  made  for  the 
diffusion  of  Christianity,  when  it  shall  please  Him  to  give 
the  word,  and  great  shall  be  the  company  of  preachers. 

And  we  would  go  yet  further  in  our  encomiums  upon 
commerce.  We  have  an  admiration  the  very  highest  for 
that  merchantman,  whose  conduct  proves  him  a  man  of 
sterling  piety.  We  have  so  great  a  sense  of  the  tempta- 
tions to  which  commercial  men  must  be  exposed,  that  we 
regard  those,  whose  religion  can  nourish  in  the  atmosphere 
of  business,  as  men  in  whom  the  spiritual  life  must  have 
gained  extraordinary  vigour.  Hence  the  engagements  of 
commerce,  as  there  is  great  risk  of  their  hindering  a  man 
in  his  providing  for  Eternity,  so,  if  pursued  in  a  spirit  of 
watchfulness  and  prayer,  they  may  be  subservient  to  his 
advance  in  godliness,  and  enable  him  to  reach  a  high  point 
in  Christian  attainment.  There  may  be  much  in  the  occu- 
pations of  merchandise  which  tends  to  the  keeping  down 
a  man's  religion  :  but  this  only  calls  for  a  greater  measure 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  143 

of  vigilance,  and  greater  intenseness  in  supplication :  and 
if  commerce  bring  these  along  with  it,«  we  know  no  reason 
why  the  frequenter  of  the  wharf  and  the  mart  should  not 
far  outstrip  in  righteousness  the  inmate  of  the  study,  and 
gain  an  eminence  in  spirituality,  which  shall  be  higher  in 
proportion  to  his  greater  dangers  and  greater  difficulties. 

Thus,  with  every  feeling  awake  to  the  necessary  perils 
of  commercial  life,  we  can,  nevertheless,  regard  the  scenes 
of  business  as  a  stage  on  which  may  be  won  the  richest  of 
the  recompenses  proposed  by  Christianity ;  and  we  can 
therefore  look  upon  a  merchant,  as  we  would  upon  a  com- 
batant, to  whom  is  appointed  a  post  of  honour,  because  of 
danger ;  and  who,  if  exposed  to  more  risk,  may  be  ani- 
mated with  more  hope. 

But  whilst  we  do  not  hesitate  to  deliver  these  senti- 
ments in  reference  to  commerce,  we  must  be  plain  with 
you  in  speaking  of  the  perils  which  necessarily  attend  its 
prosecution.  The  likelihood  is  extreme,  that  men  will 
become  so  engrossed  with  secular  occupations,  as  to  neg- 
lect, either  partially  or  altogether,  the  concerns  of  another 
life;  and  there  is  at  least  a  possibility,  if  we  may  not  call 
it  a  probability,  that,  tempted  with  the  prospect  of  advan- 
tage, they  will  engage  in  speculations  which  are  not 
strictly  honourable,  and  stoop  to  some  species  of  under- 
hand dealing.  And  when  we  recommend  our  text  as  a 
kind  of  talisman,  it  is  specially  against  dangers  such  as 
these.  It  may  be  that  there  are  individuals  amongst  you, 
with  whom  the  pressure  of  business  is  an  excuse  for  the 
slight  attention  which  they  give  to  the  salvation  of  the 
soul.  We  can  readily  believe  your  time  so  engrossed,  that 
religious  duties  seem  unavoidably  neglected.     But  we  are 


144  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

certain  that  it  ought  not  to  be  thus  engrossed,  for  we  are 
certain  that  God  allows  every  man  leisure  enough  for  the 
escaping  Hell,  and  the  gaining  Heaven.  And  therefore 
we  contend  that,  as  accountable  creatures,  you  are  un- 
speakably blameworthy  in  giving  yourselves  thus  exclu- 
sively to  secular  engagements.  If  it  be  matter  of  fact, 
that  business  does  not  leave  time  enough  for  religion,  you 
are  bound,  at  whatever  worldly  cost,  to  circumscribe  your 
business  within  narrower  limits,  and  bestow  the  redeemed 
hours  on  the  high  concerns  of  Eternity.  And  you  may 
meet  us  here  with  some  such  question  as  that  proposed  by 
St.  Peter,  if  we  give  up  all  this,  the  boat  and  the  net, 
"  what  shall  we  have  therefore  ?"  You  may  tell  us  that 
what  we  enjoin  as  duty,  can  only  be  done  with  great  loss ; 
and  that,  if  you  attempt  to  withdraw  yourselves  at  all 
from  the  world,  and  to  follow,  with  a  less  incessant  in- 
dustry, the  occupation  of  your  profession,  it  must  be  at 
an  immense  sacrifice  of  substance  and  prospect.  Sirs,  if 
you  cannot  be  religious,  but  through  bankruptcy,  let  not 
your  name  in  the  gazette  scare  you  from  inscribing  it  in 
the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life.  You  cannot  be  losers,  by  resolv- 
ing not  to  lose  the  soul.  We  come  down  upon  you  with 
the  truth  of  the  inexhaustibleness  of  God.  It  is  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  wealth  of  both  worlds,  of  the  gold  and 
diamond  of  earth,  of  the  magnificence  and  blessedness  of 
Heaven,  in  whose  service  we  entreat  you  to  break  oif  your 
alliance  with  those  who  live  as  though  they  were  never  to 
die.  And  why  speak  of  risk,  when  run  for  Him  who 
cannot  fail  his  servants  ?  Why  speak  of  loss,  when  sus- 
tained in  his  cause,  who  "  openeth  his  hand,  and  filleth  all 
things  living  with  plenteousness  ?"     Oh,  you  may  say  to 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  145 

us,  you  require  the  surrender  of  a  great  deal  ;  we  hardly 
kuow  how  to  make  the  venture:  "what  shall  we  have 
therefore  ?"  but  you  should  be  nerved  to  boldness  in  deter- 
mining to  make  religion  the  prime  concern,  when  you 
have  heard  these  words  of  our  Lord,  "'  Every  one  that 
hath  forsaken  houses,  or  brethren,  or  children,  or  lands, 
for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold,  and  shall 
inherit  eternal  life !" 

We  need  scarcely  add,  that  our  text  should  be  a  pre- 
servative, not  only  to  those  who  may  be  tempted  so  to 
engross  themselves  writh  business  as  to  leave  no  time  for 
religion,  but  to  others  who  may  be  solicited  to  turn  aside, 
be  it  ever  so  little,  from  rectitude  and  integrity.  If  we 
have  passed  a  high  encomium  upon  commerce,  of  course  it 
has  been  upon  commerce  as  prosecuted  with  the  strictest 
honour  and  conscientiousness,  and  not  as  deformed  by  any 
thing  approaching  to  evasion  or  overreaching.  The  trans- 
action which,  though  not  punishable  by  law,  may  be  con- 
victed of  meanness,  or  proved  inconsistent  with  a  high 
sense  of  honour,  is  as  unbecoming  to  a  Christian  as  what  is 
actually  dishonest.  What  the  world  calls  a  shabby  thing, 
the  Christian  should  call  a  sinful  thing.  The  morality  of 
the  Gospel  is  vastly  more  delicate  and  sensitive  than  the 
nicest  principle  of  what  men  call  honour ;  if  it  make  the 
fighting  a  duel  sinful,  it  makes  the  giving  an  offence  sinful ; 
it  requires  us  to  consult  in  every  thing  the  glory  of  God, 
and  is,  therefore,  as  abhorrent  from  trick  and  underhand 
dealing,  as  from  robbery  and  extortion.  If,  therefore,  men 
be  placed  in  such  circumstances,  that  they  may  make  a 
profitable  speculation,  and  amass  much  present  wealth,  if 

they  will  but  swerve  a  little  from  just  and  honourable  con- 
10 


146  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  [Lect. 

duct,  we  require  them  to  remember  that  the  God,  whom 
they  profess  to  serve,  is  a  God  by  whom  actions  are 
weighed,  whose  balances  are  so  nice  that  they  will  detect 
fraud  in  what  is  mean,  and  expose  as  iniquitous  all  that  is 
disreputable. 

And  if  the  swerving  from  what  is  upright  in  trade 
promise  a  man  advantages  which  he  is  loath  to  forego,  let 
him  dwell  on  the  word  "hundredfold"  in  our  text,  and 
strengthen  himself  in  rectitude  by  thoughts  of  the  divine 
fulness  and  power.  Thy  God  is  the  God  who  hath  said  by 
his  Prophet  to  those  who  made  their  religion  secondary  to 
their  money,  "  Ye  looked  for  much,  and  lo,  it  came  to 
little ;  and  when  ye  brought  it  home,  I  did  blow  upon  it." 
He  is  the  God  of  whom  Solomon  declares,  "  By  the  fear 
of  the  Lord  are  riches,  honour,  and  life."  Therefore,  why 
speak  complainingly  of  the  boat  and  the  net  which  have 
to  be  left,  when  every  one  who  leaves  any  thing  for  Christ 
shall  receive  a  hundredfold,  and  inherit  eternal  life  ? 
Whenever,  then,  you  are  tempted  to  do  wrong,  for  the 
sake  of  a  present  advantage,  bring  to  mind  what  we  have 
insisted  on  throughout  our  discourse,  the  remunerating 
power  of  God.  If  we  would  resist  evil,  our  thoughts 
should  be  much  upon  Heaven.  If  we  lived  in  the  expect- 
ation of  glory  and  immortality,  at  what  a  great  disadvan- 
tage would  the  objects  of  sense,  and  the  things  of  the 
world,  make  their  attack.  We  should  not  waver  for  pres- 
ent gain,  if  we  were  counting  up  the  "treasure  in  the 
heavens  which  faileth  not,  where  no  thief  approacheth, 
neither  moth  corrupteth."  And  therefore  would  we  have 
you  animate  yourselves  for  the  moral  warfare,  by  consider- 
ing what  great  wealth  is  promised  to  the  faithful.     Is  the 


VII.]  THE  HUNDREDFOLD  RECOMPENSE.  147 

gold  seducing  you  ?  are  the  precious  stones  dazzling  you  ? 
Then  think  of  that  city,  whose  street  is  pure  gold,  and 
whose  every  gate  is  one  pearl.  Is  earthly  fame  alluring 
you?  Then  think  of  that  throne  which  the  righteous  are 
to  ascend,  of  the  crown  they  are  to  wear,  of  the  sceptic 
they  are  to  wield.  Are  worldly  pleasures  tempting  you? 
Then  think  of  pleasures  so  deep  and  ever  flowing,  thai 
they  are  spoken  of  as  a  river,  of  joys  so  unmeasured,  that 
he  who  partakes  of  them  will  lie  abundantly  satisfied. 
Oh,  thus — whenever  inclined  to  ask,  as  if  in  doubt  and 
hesitation,  "  What  shall  we  have  therefore  V — take  our 
text  as  an  answer  with  Avhich  to  repel  the  tempter,  "  Every 
man  that  hath  forsaken  houses  or  lands  for  my  sake,  shall 
receive  an  hundredfold,  and  inherit  eternal  life  !" 


LECTURE  VIII. 


€ ju  tilt  more  tjjatt  Mnt 


Matt.  vi.  25. 
*  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ?" 

There  is  a  simple  but  a  very  strong  argument  contained 
in  this  question  ;  and  it  can  hardly  fail,  we  think,  to  be  for 
your  advantage  that  we  should  examine  and  explain  it. 
Our  blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  is  reproving  the  faithless- 
ness of  his  disciples,  who  were  anxious  in  regard  of  the 
supply  of  the  daily  necessaries  of  life.  "  Take  no  thought," 
He  saith,  "for  your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye 
shall  drink ;  nor  yet  for  your  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on." 
And  why  were  they  not  to  take  thought  ?  was  there  not 
some  measure  of  uncertainty  as  to  their  obtaining  sufficiency 
of  what  they  needed  ?  and  if  so,  on  what  principle  were 
they  to  dismiss  all  anxiety  ?  Our  text  gives  the  answer  to 
these  questions.  From  whom  had  life  proceeded?  by 
whose  hands  had  the  body  been  wrought  ?  Surely  God, 
and  God  alone,  was  to  be  regarded  as  the  Author  of  their 
being:  He  had  called  them  into  existence:  from  Him  had. 
come  that  structure  which  was  so  "  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made."     Well,  then,  if  God  had  given  life,  was  He 


THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  ]  40 

likely  to  withhold  the  means  by  which  life  might  "be  sus- 
tained ?  if  his  hands  had  made  and  fashioned  the  body, 
would  He  be  neglectful  of  his  curious  work,  and  leave  it 
without  raiment  ?  He  had  already  given  the  greater  good, 
would  He  then  refuse  the  less  ?  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than 
meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ?" 

You  see  now  the  drift  of  the  question.  The  argument 
is,  that,  having  given  the  costlier  thing,  God  must  be  ready 
to  bestow  the  less  precious ;  meat  Avas  inferior  to  life, 
raiment  to  the  body  ;  surely  then,  by  giving  the  life  and 
the  body,  God  had  pledged  Himself  to  the  giving  also  the 
food  and  the  raiment ;  and  why  then  should  there  be  mis- 
trust, why  anxiety  as  to  the  supply  of  daily  wants?  Ah, 
my  brethren,  there  is  indeed  fine  practical  logic  in  this :  if 
God's  love  towards  us  have  prompted  Him  to  the  bestow- 
ing on  us  a  great  good,  ought  we  not  to  infer  from  that 
bestowment  his  readiness  to  bestow  on  us  every  lesser 
good  ?  St.  Paul  throws  the  same  argument  into  its  highest 
form,  when  he  says,  "  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but 
delivered  Him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  He  not  with  Him 
also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?"  You  will  readily  perceive 
that  this  is  precisely  the  same  argument.  God,  in  giving 
us  his  Son,  has  bestowed  the  highest  possible  gift ;  we  may 
be  sure  then  that  the  love,  which  would  not  withhold  this 
greatest  of  all  boons,  will  prompt  to  the  conferring  what- 
soever of  lesser  good  would  be  really  for  our  advantage. 
Indeed,  we  might  throw  our  text  into  the  closest  resem- 
blance to  this  saying  of  St.  Paul:  Christ  Himself  is  our 
life ;  He  gave  his  own  body,  his  flesh,  for  the  life  of  the 
world — who  then  can  doubt  that  God  will  bestow  on  us 
such  good  things  as  we  need  ?  they  cannot  be  beyond  his 


150  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

love,  inasmuch  as  they  must  be  inferior  to  what  his  love 
has  already  conferred,  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and 
the  body  than  raiment?" 

But  we  cannot  bring  out  the  argument  in  all  its  force 
and  extent,  unless  we  first  enlarge  on  the  fact,  that,  in 
giving  us  life,  that  life  which  is  in  his  Son,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  God  hath  displayed  the  greatest  possible  love,  inas- 
much as  the  gift  involved  the  greatest  possible  sacrifice. 
If  this  shall  once  be  established,  if  it  shall  be  evident  that 
the  love,  which  could  consent  to  the  giving  up  of  Christ, 
can  have  nothing  more  costly  to  surrender,  nothing  more 
tremendous  to  encounter,  then,  indeed,  we  are  on  a  vantage- 
ground  from  which  to  resist  every  form  of  uubelief ;  we 
shall  have  right  to  stand  beneath  the  cross,  and  say  to  all 
doubts,  anxieties,  and  fears,  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than 
meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  V 

Now  there  is  perhaps  no  history  in  the  Bible,  Avith 
which  we  are  all  more  familiar  than  with  that  of  Abraham 
offering  up  Isaac.  We  become  acquainted  with  it  whilst 
children ;  and  the  facts  cling  tenaciously  to  us  when  we 
have  grown  into  men.  And  not  only  are  we  acquainted 
with  the  narrative  5  we  are  all  more  or  less  aware  of  the 
typical  character  of  the  transaction :  we  have  no  difficulty 
in  recognising  in  Isaac  a  figure  of  our  blessed  Bedeeiner, 
but  suppose  that,  as  the  lad  bears  the  wood,  and  submits 
unresistingly  to  the  being  laid  on  the  altar,  he  represents 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  carrying  his  own  cross,  and  meekly 
giving  Himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

But  if  the  son  of  Abraham  thus  serves  as  a  type  of> 
the  Son  of  God,  is  there  any  thing  typical  about  Abraham 
himself?  may  we  presume  to  think,  may  we  think  without 


VIN.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  151 

impropriety,  or  irreverence,  that  the  earthly  Father,  in  the 
feelings  which  must  have  agitated  him,  as  he  surrendered 
his  well-beloved  Son,  may  be  looked  at  as  representing, 
however  partially  and  dimly,  the  heavenly  Father  when 
He  gave  up  Christ  to  ignominy  and  death  ?  We  should 
proceed  with  great  caution  when  we  thus  inquire  into  the 
possible  extension  of  the  type.  But  at  the  same  time  we 
are  not  to  allow  the  fear  of  ascribing  human  feelings  to 
God,  to  keep  us  from  endeavouring  to  obtain  as  correct  an 
idea  as  our  imperfections  will  admit  of  the  movements  and 
workings  of  the  everlasting  mind.  No  doubt,  it  were  to 
forget  what  God  is,  how  deeply,  how  sublimely  imperturb- 
able, to  suppose  that  the  first  person  in  the  Trinity,  when 
giving  up  the  second  to  death,  felt  as  Abraham  must  have 
felt,  when  stretching  forth  the  knife  to  slay  Isaac.  But 
are  we  therefore  to  think  that  the  Father  felt  nothing?  are 
we  to  suppose  that  it  cost  the  Father  nothing  to  give  his 
Sou  for  our  Redemption?  This  were  manifestly  prepos- 
terous. What  would  become  of  the  well-known  text, 
"God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  Only-begotten 
Son,"  it'  there  were  not  a  great  sacrifice  made  by  the 
Father  in  giving  the  Son,  as  well  as  by  the  Son  in  giving 
Himself?  We  do  not  then  say  that  the  Father,  when 
bruising  and  putting  to  grief  the  Son,  felt  exactly  as 
Abraham  felt  when  offering  up  Isaac.  But,  probably,  we 
come  nearer  the  truth  than  in  any  other  way,  by  taking 
the  earthly  parent  as  a  faint  and  remote  image  of  the 
heavenly.  We  may  still  be  immeasurably  distant  from 
the  actual  feeling  of  the  divine  mind,  and  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  think  that  this  mind  could  have  been  agi- 
tated and  torn  as  must  have  been  the  human.     But,  at  all 


152  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect 

events,  let  us  be  sure  that  God  did  feel,  that  He  was  sorely 
pained,  and  mysteriously  stricken — however  defective,  or 
even  inappropriate,  such  language  may  be — when  He  gave 
Christ  to  be  a  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  The 
apparent  impropriety  of  ascribing  pain  to  God  should  only 
make  us  believe  that  it  was  something  immeasurably  more 
painful  than  what  we  call  pain  which  Deity  endured. 

And  we  should  wish  it  strongly  impressed  upon  you, 
that  the  Father,  as  well  as  the  Son,  had  an  immense  part 
to  do  in  the  work  of  your  Redemption.  We  have  very 
little  fear  of  Christians  overlooking  what  was  done  for 
them  by  the  second  person  in  the  Trinity — it  was  done  by 
Him  in  the  form  of  a  man  visibly  and  palpably  ;  and  even 
the  most  indifferent  can  scarce  shut  their  eyes  to  the  agony 
and  bloody  sweat,  the  passion  and  the  cross.  But  we 
have  the  greatest  fear  of  your  comparatively  overlooking 
what  has  been  done  for  you  by  the  first  person,  and  by 
the  third,  and  of  your  thus  acknowledging  three  persons 
in  the  essence  of  Godhead,  whilst  you  practically  acknowl- 
edge but  one  in  the  work  of  Redemption.  And  of  these 
two  persons,  the  first  and  the  third,  it  is  the  first  which 
you  are  most  likely  to  forget,  inasmuch  as  the  third,  the 
Holy  Ghost,  is  still  busied,  though  invisibly,  on  your  be- 
half; and  his  oj^erations  on  your  minds  must  serve  occa- 
sionally to  admonish  you  as  to  his  existence,  and  the  debt 
which  you  owe  Him.  But  the  first  person,  because  He 
had  apparently  nothing  to  do  in  your  Redemption,  because 
He  remained  in  the  magnificence  of  his  uncreated  glory, 
whilst  the  second  came  down  to  suffer  in  our  nature,  and 
the  third  to  sanctify  that  nature ;  this  first  person  is  likely 
to  be  regarded  by  you  with  wholly  different  feelings  from 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  153 

those  with  which  you  regard  the  second  or  the  third,  with 
a  far  lower  sense  of  gratitude,  of  veneration,  of  obligation. 
We  caution  you  against  this.  If  Abraham  had  slain  Isaac 
for  your  benefit,  and  Isaac-  had  consented  to  be  thus  slain, 
would  you  not  have  felt  that  your  debt  to  Abraham  was 
of  just  the  same  amount  as  your  debt  to  Isaac  ?  that  it 
must  have  cost  the  Father  as  much  to  give  the  Son,  as  it 
cost  the  Son  to  give  Himself?  Apply  without  hesitation, 
but  with  the  deepest  reverence,  the  very  same  principle  to 
tin-  Godhead;  and  when  \<>u  Bay  how  shall  we  ever  repay 
the  untold  love  of  the  Sun  who  spared  not  Himself,  say 
also  how  shall  we  ever  repay  the  equally  untold  love  of 
the  Father  who  "spared  not  his  own  Son,"  but  gave  Him 
up  for  the  life  of  the  world. 

For  you  must  farther  remember,  in  order  to  the  laying 
a  broad  foundation  for  our  argument,  that  Christ  was 
God's  Son  in  no  figurative  or  metaphorical  sense:  there  is 
no  power  in  the  Scriptural  reasoning  to  which  we  have  re- 
ferred, if  you  suppose  Christ  to  have  been  a  creature:  its 
strength  wholly  lies  in  his  having  bc^en  one  with  the  Crea- 
tor, from  everlasting  and  to  everlasting,  co-equal  and  co- 
eternal.  But,  acknowledging  this,  into  what  a  depth,  what 
a  mystery,  do  we  immediately  plunge,  when  wre  would 
ponder  that  exceeding  great  love  of  God  which  was  mani- 
fested in  his  sending  his  own  Son  as  our  Saviour.  We 
might  have  supposed  that  sin  would  have  so  alienated  God 
from  us,  that,  on  the  moment  of  apostacy,  we  should  have 
become  objects  of  nothing  but  his  righteous  hatred  and  in- 
dignation. This  would  seem  to  have  been  the  case  when 
angels  transgressed.  We  read  of  nothing  to  show  that 
loftier  beings  than  ourselves,  which   kept  not  their   first 


154  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

estate,  have  enjoyed  any  visitations  of  love.  They  become, 
as  it  would  appear,  immediately  and  hopelessly,  outcast 
wanderers  on  a  sea  of  tribulation,  with  no  single  star  of 
mercy  discernible  through  the  clouds  which  hung  fearfully 
above.  But  it  was  different  with  man.  He  too  had  cast 
Himself  on  a  sea  of  tribulation ;  and  over  him  was  woven 
a  firmament  of  clouds ;  but,  so  far  from  having  been  left 
to  buffet  hopelessly  with  the  storm,  and  to  look  up  despair- 
ingly to  unmitigated  blackness,  God  gave  him  notices  from 
the  first,  of  a  covert  from  the  tempest,  and  painted  on  the 
dark  masses,  which  appeared  charged  with  destruction,  a 
bow  whose  bright  stripes  were  prophetic  of  deliverance. 
It  is  beyond  us  to  give  reasons  for  a  difference  so  vast  in 
the  divine  dealings  with  angels  and  with  men.  We  ac- 
knowledge it  as  a  mystery,  profound,  unfathomable,  that, 
whilst  love  for  the  higher  rank  of  being  seems  to  have 
been  destroyed  by  rebellion,  love  for  the  lower  survived 
that  rebellion,  yea,  prompted  God  to  give  his  own  Son  for 
our  rescue. 

But  there  is  no  need  that  we  should  be  able  to  explain 
a  truth,  in  order  to  our  believing  it,  and  drawing  from  it 
consolation.  God's  ways  indeed  are  not  our  ways,  neither 
are  his  thoughts  our  thoughts :  but  we  may  adore  where 
we  cannot  fathom ;  we  may  rejoice  where  we  also  marvel. 
God  was  not  willing  that  man  should  perish,  though  man 
had  altogether  pulled  down  ruin  on  himself,  and  not  a 
tongue  could  have  been  raised  in  complaint  of  injustice, 
had  the  race  been  abandoned  to  the  wretchedness  which  it 
had  wilfully  incurred.  But  how  will  God  succour  the 
race  ?  how,  pledged  as  He  is  by  his  nature,  as  well  as  by 
his  law,  to   punish  every  sin,  will  He  maintain  his  own 


Vm.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  155 

attributes,  and  yet  not  destroy  the  guilty  ?  Ah,  here  was 
the  question  for  which  finite  wisdom  could  afford  no  solu- 
tion ;  but  of  which  we  now  wish  you  specially  to  observe, 
that,  when  solved,  it  presented  a  difficulty  which  no  finite 
love  could  have  ever  overcome.  Infinite  wisdom  devised 
a  plan  through  which  God  might  be  just  and  yet  the 
justifier  of  sinners.  But  this  plan  required  that  a  person 
of  the  ever-blessed  Trinity  should  assume  human  nature, 
mid  make  expiation  in  that  nature,  for  sins  done  therein 
by  countless  generations.  And  then  came  the  question, 
Will  divine  love  consent  to  this  plan  ?  Will  that  love  show 
itself  bo  great  a-  to  proceed  with  the  purpose  of  Redemp- 
tion, when  such  a  decision  has  been  reached  as  to  who 
alone  can  be  the  Redeemer?  Yes,  God  "spared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  delivered  Him  up  i'<>v  us  all.1'  No  lesser 
sacrifice  would  have  saved  us ;  and  God  loved  us  so  well 
that  He  would  save  us  at  any  sacrifice,  except  that  indeed 
of  his  own  attributes  or  perfections.  Wonderful  love ! 
what  else  is  the  thousandth  part  as  wonderful  ?  unless  it 
be  that  the  human  heart  can  be  proof  against  this  love, 
and  that  men  can  give  scorn  and  contempt  in  return  for 
Gods  giving  his  only  and  well-beloved  Son !  I  think  that 
this  wonder,  but  this  alone,  is  more  surprising.  There 
may  be  one  exhibition  which  surpasses  in  its  strangeness 
that  of  God's  not  sparing  his  Son  ;  but  it  can  only  be  that 
of  man's  rejecting  the  gift.  Yes,  obdurate  sinner,  if  such 
an  one  there  be  in  the  present  assembly,  angels  looked 
wonderingly  on,  when  a  person  of  the  Godhead  assumed 
thy  nature  to  bear  thy  sins ;  but  they  look,  it  may  be, 
more  wonderingly  still  upon  thee,  who  canst  resist  such  a 
Saviour,  or  set  at  naught  such  a  sacrifice. 


156  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

But  if  the  displayed  love  do  nothing  in  regard  of  the 
obdurate  sinner,  but  prove  him  wonderful  in  his  obduracy, 
and  therefore  deserving  of  signal  condemnation,  what 
effect  ought  it  to  produce  on  such  as  repent  of  their  sins, 
and  desire  in  all  things  to  yield  themselves  to  God  ? 
Surely  a  most  encouraging  and  animating  effect.  God, 
the  timid  disciple  will  say,  is  indeed  surpassingly  great ; 
there  cannot  be  the  good  which  it  is  not  in  his  power  to 
bestow,  nor  the  evil  which  it  is  not  in  his  power  to  remove. 
If  therefore  I  might  only  venture  to  think  that  God  is 
favourably  disposed  towards  me,  I  might  indeed  exclaim 
with  the  Apostle,  "  Who  can  be  against  me  ?"  But,  "  in- 
iquities prevail  against  me,"  "  my  sins  are  more  in  number 
than  the  hairs  of  my  head :"  I  dare  not  then  look  up  to  this 
wonderful  Being :  that  He  is  amazing  in  power  and  wis- 
dom, is  every  where  traced  on  the  visible  universe  :  but  I 
know  also  that  He  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  look  upon 
iniquity ;  and  how  then  can  I,  a  transgressor  from  my 
youth,  be  comforted  by  thoughts  of  his  unmeasured  su- 
premacy ?  Indeed,  it  is  true  that  you  require  other  intel- 
ligence than  can  be  gathered  from  the  visible  system  of 
things,  with  all  its  majesty,  and  grandeur,  and  harmony  ! 
We  must  take  you  therefore  to  Calvary  ;  we  shall  find 
encouragement  for  you  there,  beneath  a  darkened  heaven, 
and  on  a  trembling  earth,  if  you  cannot  gather  it  from  a 
firmament  strewed  with  innumerable  worlds,  and  a  land- 
scape rich  in  every  beauty.  Standing  beneath  the  cross, 
every  fear  ought  to  vanish.  God  is  there  revealed  in  a 
character  which  must  satisfy  you,  if  any  thing  can,  that 
He  loves  you,  and  is  ready  to  impart  to  you  every  possible 
blessing.     We  wish  to  make  you  feel,  that,  as  a  redeemed 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  157 

creature,  you  have  God  on  your  side.  But  it  is  nothing 
that  we  say  to  you,  "  God  spake,  and  it  was  done ;  He 
commanded,  and  it  stood  fast."  It  is  nothing  that  we  say, 
look  on  the  worlds  which  He  hath  formed,  think  of  the 
tribes  upon  tribes  which  He  hath  animated,  consider  the 
thousand  times  ten  thousand  evidences  of  his  being  Lord 
of  the  Universe,  "glorious  in  holiness,  fearful  in  praises, 
doing  wonders."  This  does  not  meet  your  case;  you 
rather  shrink  from  a  Being  so  refulgently  awful.  But 
when  we  tell  you  that  God  so  loved  you  as  to  give  his  Son 
for  you  ;  when  Ave  point  to  the  expiring  Saviour,  and  tell 
you  that  He  dies  that  you  may  live,  life,  your  present  life, 
your  future  life,  being  all  drawn  from  his  deep  wounds, 
then  what  is  to  hinder  you,  surrounded  though  you  may 
be  by  every  form  of  want,  and  fear,  and  anxiety, — what  is 
to  hinder  you  from  a  confident  reliance  on  the  love  of 
God  as  adequate  to  your  every  need,  a  reliance  which  will 
find  expression  in  the  triumphant  question,  "  Is  not  the 
life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ?" 

Now,  in  thus  laying  a  foundation  on  which  to  expand 
the  argument  involved  in  our  text,  we  have  already  in  a 
measure  set  forth  that  argument  itself.  Our  object  has 
been,  by  dwelling  on  the  love  of  God  as  manifested  in  his 
giving  his  own  Son  for  our  Redemption,  to  show  you  that 
we  have  already  received  from  God  the  greatest  gift  which 
even  God  Himself  could  bestow.  We  declare  it  impos- 
sible for  even  imagination  to  suggest  any  thing  greater 
which  could  be  done  for  us  by  God,  than  was  done  when 
He  surrendered,  for  our  sakes,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to 
ignominy  and  death.  And  since  the  love  which  could 
prompt  God  to  give  us  this  greatest  gift  must  be  sufficient 


158  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

to  move  Him  to  bestow  any  lesser,  you  have  only,  in  our 
text,  to  consider  life  as  resulting  from  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ,  and  you  may  scatter  every  doubt  as  to  the  supply 
of  daily  wants,  by  the  emphatic  question,  "  Is  not  the  life 
more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  V 

Yon  must  all,  we  think,  be  alive  to  the  strength  of  this 
simple  reasoning.  I  cannot  gaze  on  the  Redeemer  of 
human  kind,  wearing  the  form  of  a  servant,  though  I 
know  him  all  the  while  for  the  everlasting  God ;  I  cannot 
behold  Him  travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength,  and 
nevertheless  "  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief," 
without  feeling  that  the  love,  which  could  prompt  on  my 
behalf  so  stupendous  a  substitution,  must  be  verily  a  love 
which  can  withhold  from  me  nothing  which  would  be  for 
my  good.  It  is  not  that  every  thing  will  be  bestowed 
which  my  heart  may  desire  ;  but  it  is  that  nothing  will  be 
denied  which  my  happiness  may  need.  I  have  an  assurance 
which  nothing  can  shake,  nothing,  at  least,  short  of  an 
absolute  demonstration  that  Christianity,  after  all,  is  but  a 
"cunningly-devised  fable," — an  assurance  that  I  am  the 
object  of  a  love,  which  I  cannot  overdraw  by  any  want,  or 
any  wish,  seeing  that  whatsoever  I  can  ask  must  come 
short  of  what  I  have  received.  I  know  not  where  doubts, 
fears,  anxieties,  would  be,  if  Christians  lived  more  habitu- 
ally beneath  the  shadow  of  the  cross.  Christians  are  too 
much  accustomed  to  take  their  estimate  of  divine  love 
from  temporal  appointments ;  whereas,  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ  should  be  always  their  measure.  Not  that  divine 
love  does  not  appear  gloriously  great,  when  judged  by  its 
common  and  daily  manifestations.  O  cold  hearts,  which 
glow  not  as  love  provides  for  our  wants,  gives  health  and 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  159 

abundance,  and  gladdens  us  with  the  sweet  charities  of 
home.     But  these  manifestations  may  be  interrupted  :  sick- 
ness and  want  may  be  upon  us :  death  may  break  up  our 
circle,  and  disappointment  mar  our  hopes  :  whither  then 
am  I  to  turn  for  assurance  of  Divine  love,  if  my  measure-1 
ment  of  it  have  been  derived    from   what  I  have  lost '( 
But  measure  by  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  I  know,  I  feel, 
the  love  infinite,  though  I  may  be  an  outcast,  worn  with 
pain,  deserted  by  friends,  limited  by  calamity, — as  well  as 
though  my  path  were  over  flowers,  and  every  present  good 
were  placed  within  my  reach.     It  must  be  in  love  that 
things  are  denied  me :  it  must  be  in  love  that  things  are 
taken  from  me :  He  who  gave  his  Son  for  me  cannot  be 
unwilling,  must  be  desirous,  to  give  me   also  whatsoever 
would  advantage  me  ;  and,  therefore,  whilst  I  can  point  to 
the  cross,  and  say  with  Thomas,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God," 
I  ought   to    be   able   to  defy   penury,  smile  at  affliction, 
trample  upon  death,  confident  that  the  Almighty  loves  me 
with  an  everlasting  love. 

Would  that  you  might  all  learn  to  make  this  use  of 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  We  want  those  of  you  who  are 
believers  in  Christ,  to  turn,  if  you  will  allow  us  the  ex- 
pression, the  atonement  to  daily  account.  We  would  not 
have  you  regard  it  as  less  awful,  but  Ave  would  have  you 
employ  it  more  frequently, — not  reserving  it  as  a  high 
mystery  of  faith,  to  be  contemplated  only  in  moments  of 
pure  and  seraphic  abstraction,  but  carrying  it  with  you  as 
a  practical  thing,  just  as  the  mariner  would  carry  his  com- 
pass and  chart.  There  is  not  a  care  by  which  you  are 
harassed,  which  the  atonement  might  not  lighten,  if  not 
disperse :  there  is  not  an  evil  with  which  you  are  threat- 


160  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect, 

ened,  from  which  the  atonement  might  not  take  all  mena- 
cing aspect :  there  is  not  a  loss  with  which  you  are  visited, 
the  void  left  by  which  the  atonement  might  not  fill. 
Glorious,  universal,  inexhaustible  truth  !  the  cross  opens  to 
us  Heaven,  and,  at  the  same  time,  irradiates  earth :  it  secures 
us  every  present  good,  as  well  as  every  future  :  it  fills  the 
ages  of  eternity  with  blessedness,  and  the  moments  of 
time  with  assurance :  it  dries  tears,  hushes  griefs,  soothes 
anxieties,  whilst  it  pardons  sins,  subdues  corruptions,  prof- 
fers glories.  I  marvel  not  that  St.  Paul  should  exclaim, 
"  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ."  Oh,  whilst  we  look  upon  the  bleeding 
Lamb,  and  feel  that  through  his  death  we  have  life, 
we  may  also  feel  that  no  want  shall  be  unsupplied,  no 
sorrow  unsanctified,  no  real  good  withheld ;  for  we  can 
ask  in  a  tone  of  confidence,  in  a  tone  of  triumph,  "  Is 
not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  rai- 
ment ?" 

But  now  it  is  necessary  to  guard  against  any  misappre- 
hension or  abuse  of  the  doctrine  which  we  have  derived 
from  our  text.  We  have  endeavoured  to  show  you  that 
the  love  of  God,  as  evidenced  by  the  gift  of  his  Son,  must 
necessarily  be  so  great  that  the  true  believer  may  be  con- 
fident that  nothing  will  be  withheld  from  him,  the  receiving 
which  would  be  eventually  for  his  good.  Our  argu- 
ment has  been,  that,  in  giving  the  greater  good,  God 
shows  a  love  which  must  move  Him  to  the  bestowing  any 
lesser :  having  given  life,  He  must  be  ready  to  give  food, 
food  being  inferior  to  life :  having  given  the  body,  He 
must  be  ready  to  give  raiment,  raiment  being  inferior  to 
the  body:  having  given  his  Son,  He  must  be  ready  to  give 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  161 

all  things,  there  being  nothing  which  can  be  comparable 
with  that  mighty  bestowment. 

But  though  the  Divine  love  towards  men  be  thus 
wonderful,  thus  immeasurable,  there  is  nothing  in  it  to 
encourage  transgressors,  who  persist  in  transgression. 
There  is  no  ground  for  saying,  Surely  God  loves  man  too 
well  to  permit  his  destruction  :  He  will  never  cast  into  hell 
beings  whom  He  has  redeemed  at  so  stupendous  a  cost. 
There  might  have  been  some  ground  for  saying  this,  had 
God  published  a  free  pardon,  without  requiring  an  expiation. 
But,  as  we  have  constantly  to  remind  you,  God's  hatred  of 
sin  was  just  as  strongly  displayed  as  his  love  of  men,  in 
the  gift  of  his  own  Son ;  so  that  the  atonement,  if  irresist- 
ible in  its  testimony  that  every  repentant  sinner  may  be 
saved,  gives  equally  decisive  witness,  that  every  impenitent 
sinner  must  be  lost. 

And  we  wish  you  to  observe,  that,  though  nothing  can 
be  larger  than  what  a  Christian  may  take  as  the  measure 
of  God's  love,  when  the  life  in  our  text  is  identified  with 
that  life  which  is  "  hid  with  God  in  Christ,"  still  the  passage 
is  so  worded  as  to  encourage  none  but  those  who  are  true 
believers  in  the  Saviour.  We  admit  that,  although  it  is  of 
life  in  the  ordinary  sense  that  Christ  speaks  in  our  text, 
yet  the  argument  itself  cannot  stop  short  at  this  :  it  must 
be  extended  so  as  to  take  in  life  in  that  large,  that  magnifi- 
cent sense  which  belongs  to  it  when  Christ  is  spoken  of  as 
the  "  Life  of  the  world."  But  though,  when  thus  extended, 
the  one  gift,  the  gift  of  his  own  Son,  proves  God's  readi- 
ness to  bestow  every  other,  it  does  not  prove  his  readiness 
to    bestow  good  on   any  but  those  to  whom  his  Son  is 

emphatically  life.     If  Christ  is  your  life,  then  you  have 
II 


162  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

full  right,  from  the  argument  of  our  text,  to  consider  God 
as  pledged  to  the  withholding  from  you  no  good  thing: 
but  if  Christ  be  not  your  life — and  He  is  not  the  life  of 
those  of  you  who  are  still  "  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins," 
living  in  iniquity,  in  contempt  of  religion,  in  neglect  of 
the  soul — then,  as  yet,  you  have  practically  nothing  to  do 
with  the  question,  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat  ?"  the 
life  is  more  than  meat ;  but  till  you  have  the  life,  you  are 
not  in  a  position  to  draw  the  inference  as  to  the  meat :  with 
Christ,  every  thing  is  pledged  to  you;  without  Christ, 
nothing. 

And  it  is  worth  your  observing  how  accurately,  as  thus 
explained  and  limited,  our  text  corresponds  with  that  say- 
ing of  St.  Paul,  to  which  we  have,  all  along,  been  suppos- 
ing it  parallel.  "  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but 
delivered  Him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  He  not  with  Him 
also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?"  "  With  Him  also,"  observe 
that.  It  is  a  joint  gift,  so  to  speak,  to  which  God  has 
pledged  Himself  through  the  scheme  of  Redemption — the 
gift  of  all  things  with  Christ,  but  of  nothing  without 
Christ.  If  you  will  take  Christ,  you  may  be  sure  of  every 
thing  besides ;  but  if  you  refuse  Christ,  there  is  no  promise, 
no  pledge — no,  not  even  in  the  love  which  prompted  God 
not  to  spare  his  own  Son — that  any  blessing  whatsoever 
shall  fall  to  your  portion.  And  whilst  this  secures  our 
text  against  any  but  the  most  wilful  abuse,  leaving  men 
inexcusable  if  they  find  in  the  atonement  any  ground  for 
expecting  that  God  will  not  finally  punish  the  unbelieving, 
it  ought  also  to  furnish  a  rule  as  to  what  may  be  lawfully 
the  objects  of  a  Christian's  desires,  and  the  subjects  of  his 
prayers.     May  I  wish  for  this  or  that  thing  ?  may  I  ask 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  163 

for  this  or  that  thing  ?  These  questions  may  be  answered 
by  another — is  the  thing  one  with  which  Christ  may  be 
joined  ?  is  there  any  incongruity  between  it  aud  Christ,  so 
that  I  could  not  ask  Christ  and  it  in  one  breath  ?  The 
promise  is,  that  God  will  give  us  all  things  "  with  Christ ;" 
that  where  He  has  given  the  life,  He  will  not  withhold 
the  meat ;  but  such  a  promise  excludes,  by  its  very  terms, 
whatsoever  is  not  in  harmony  with  Christ,  whatsoever 
does  not  accord  with  his  being  our  "life,"  "in  whom  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being."  Tell  me  that  all 
things  are  promised  or  pledged;  and  I  might  wish,  I 
might  ask,  for  riches,  and  pleasures,  and  honours ;  but  tell 
me  that  all  things  are  promised  "with  Christ"  as  "my 
life,"  and  I  shall  be  ashamed  to  entreat  what  would  not 
combine  well  with  Christ. 

Shall  I  ask  wealth  ?  nay,  there  may  indeed  be  no  reason 
why  wealth  and  Christ  should  not  go  together :  but  when 
I  think  that  the  Redeemer  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head, 
I  feel  as  though  it  were  like  insulting  his  poverty,  to  ask 
that  he  and  riches  may  unite  in  my  portion.  Shall  I  pray 
for  distinction  ?  nay,  again,  it  may  very  well  happen  that 
Christ  and  earthly  honours  fall  to  the  same  possessor :  but 
we  speak  now  of  what  a  Christian  may  desire,  of  what  he 
may  pray  for,  rather  than  of  what  his  God  may  allot :  and 
I  think  the  aspiration  for  distinction  will  be  stopped,  and 
the  prayer  for  it  choked,  by  the  remembrance  that  what 
is  promised  is  promised  with  Christ,  and  that  human  fame 
is  a  strange  ingredient  to  compound  with  the  lowly 
Redeemer. 

And  if,  from  observing  how  the  Christian's  desires 
should  be  chastened,  and  his  prayers  regulated,  by  the 


164  THE  LIFE  MORE    THAN  MEAT.  [Lect. 

promise  of  the  "  meat"  being  only  to  those  who  have  the 
"  life,"  you  regard  it  as  a  part  of  the  promise,  part  of  the 
covenanted  blessing,  that,  with  every  thing  which  the  be- 
liever has,  he  is  also  to  have  Christ,  whose  breast  does  not 
kindle,  whose  heart  does  not  leap  ?  God  gives  nothing  to 
his  people,  with  which  he  does  not,  at  the  same  time,  give 
Christ.  Christ  being  the  life,  all  else  that  He  gives  is 
made  to  maintain  and  cherish  life  in  us.  He  may  give 
riches  ;  but  He  gives  Christ  with  the  riches ;  so  that,  sanc- 
tified by  the  Redeemer,  they  shall  be  employed  to  his 
glory.  He  may  give  sources  of  earthly  happiness ;  but 
He  gives  Christ  with  those  sources,  Christ  to  make  them 
doubly  sweet,  and  yet  to  prevent  their  drawing  off  the 
affections  from  heavenly  joys.  He  may  give  trouble :  but, 
sorrow  and  sighing,  will  ye  not  flee  before  such  a  promise  ? 
He  gives  Christ  with  the  trouble,  Christ  to  enlighten  dark- 
ness, Christ  to  hush  disquietude,  Christ  to  say  to  the  fear- 
ful spirit,  as  He  said  to  the  terrified  disciples,  "  It  is  I,  be 
not  afraid."  The  Christian  should  find  nothing  precious  in 
which  he  does  not  find  Christ,  nor  any  thing  disastrous  in 
which  he  does.  And  Christ  with  every  thing  is  his  cove- 
nanted portion — O  noble  heritage !  what  is  beautiful  in 
itself  becoming  immeasurably  more  beautiful  by  and 
through  the  accompaniment,  and  what  is  disastrous  losing 
all  its  power  to  injure.  Is  not  such  a  heritage  beyond 
human  hope,  as  it  evidently  and  incalculably  is  beyond 
human  desert  ?  Nay,  not  so, — does  it  appear  to  you  far  to 
transcend  what  man  might  dare  to  expect,  that  God  should 
freely  give  him  all  things  with  Christ?  It  may,  if  you 
judge  Divine  love  from  what  is  traced  by  burning  worlds 
on  the  firmament,  or  written  in  the  loveliness  and  abun- 


VIII.]  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT.  165 

dance  which  mantle  the  earth.  But  not  if  you  judge  from 
the  cross  ;  not,  if  you  estimate  from  the  scheme  of  Re- 
demption. All  things  may  be  ours  with  Christ ;  all  things 
are  ours  with  Christ :  unbelief  itself  may  well  shrink  from 
the  reason  which  we  urge — are  not  all  things  in  the  power 
of  Him  who  "  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  Him 
up  for  us  all  ?  having  given  us  his  Son,  what  else  can  He 
be  willing  to  withhold  ?  for  tell  us,  ye  of  little  faith,  "  Is 
not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ?" 

There  is  little  that  can  need  to  be  added,  even  were 
our  time  not  just  exhausted.  We  would  only  guard  you 
for  a  moment  against  a  possible  misapprehension  of  our 
foregoing  argument.  Remember  what  that  argument  has 
been, — that  a  greater  gift  is  a  pledge  for  every  lesser ;  life 
for  food,  the  body  for  raiment,  Christ  for  all  things.  But 
this  in  no  degree  takes  away  the  freeness  of  the  gift :  by 
giving  the  one,  God  has  not  bound  Himself,  in  such  way 
or  sense,  to  the  giving  the  other,  as  that  we  are  not  in- 
debted for  it  to  his  unmerited  bounty.  The  gift  of  Christ 
as  our  life,  does  indeed  both  ensure  and  include  every 
other ;  but,  as  it  was  of  God's  free  grace  that  we  have 
Christ,  it  is  of  God's  free  grace  that  we  have  whatever 
flows  from  or  is  incorporated  with  this  "  all  in  all"  to  the 
believer. 

We  should  be  jealous,  with  a  holy  jealousy,  of  any  in- 
terference with  the  doctrine  of  grace.  God  gives  not  in 
return  for  any  thing  which  we  have  done,  not  in  expecta- 
tion of  any  thing  which  we  may  do  :  God  gives  freely,  out 
of  his  own  wonderful,  incomprehensible  goodness.  We 
had  no  claim  upon  Him  before  we  were  redeemed :  neither 
have  we  any  claim  upon  Him  now  that  we  have  been  re- 


166  THE  LIFE  MORE  THAN  MEAT. 

deemed :  it  was  purely  of  grace,  that  He  sent  his  Son  to 
die  for  us :  and  it  is  purely  of  grace,  that  He  follows  up 
that  gift  with  "  all  things  that  pertain  unto  life  and  godli- 
ness." O  that  we  may  never  lose  sight  of  this.  We  are 
so  prone  to  pride,  that  we  require  to  have  plain  words 
made  plainer — "  gift"  made  "  free  gift" — else  shall  we  be 
intruding  something  of  our  own,  and  imagining  that,  at 
some  point  or  another,  Grod  becomes  our  debtor  rather 
than  our  benefactor.  From  first  to  last,  we  draw  upon  his 
bounty — the  life,  the  meat ;  the  body,  the  raiment ;  all  are 
free  gifts. 

Let  us  serve  Him  with  all  diligence ;  let  us  consecrate 
to  Him  our  time,  our  substance,  our  strength  ;  still,  at  last, 
eternal  life  will  be  his  gift,  his  free  gift,  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  "Where  is  boasting  then?  it  is  ex- 
cluded." But,  where  is  gratitude  ?  alas !  often  excluded 
too.  O  God,  it  is  a  new  mercy,  to  be  sensible  of  mercies. 
We  receive  every  thing  from  Thee, — enable  us  to  trace 
every  thing  to  thy  grace,  that  we  may  use  every  thing  to 
thy  glory.  This  is  but  asking  what  may  sustain  the  life  in 
us :  it  is  to  crush  that  life,  to  forget  its  Author.  And  if 
we  ask  humbly  for  grace,  that  we  may  own,  and  cherish, 
Christ  "formed  in  us,"  it  will  not,  it  cannot  be  denied — 
our  Lord  Himself  is  our  warrant,  in  his  pregnant  and  em- 
phatic question,  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the 
body  than  raiment  V 


LECTURE   IX. 


Ssninjfs  Uisura. 


John  xii.  39-41. 

"  Therefore  they  could  not  believe,  because  that  Esaias  said  again,  He  hath  blinded  their 
eyes,  and  hardened  their  heart ;  that  they  should  not  see  with  their  eyes,  nor  under- 
stand with  their  heart,  and  be  converted,  and  1  should  heal  them.  These  things  said 
Esaias,  when  he  saw  his  glory,  and  spake  of  Him." 

When  Esaias  saw  whose  glory  ?  when  he  spake  of  whom  ? 
There  can  be  no  debate  upon  this ;  for  the  Evangelist  is 
here  undoubtedly  referring  to  Christ :  he  is  relating  the 
unbelief  of  the  Jews,  notwithstanding  the  many  mira- 
cles which  Jesus  had  wrought;  and  therefore  it  is  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  whose  glory  Esaias  had  seen,  and  of 
whom  this  Prophet  had  spoken.  And  to  what  particular 
occasion  does  the  Evangelist  refer?  When  had  Esaias 
seen  Christ's  glory?  when  had  he  spoken  of  Christ? 
This  is  determined  by  the  words  which  St.  John  quotes, 
describing  the  judicial  blindness  which  was  to  settle  on  the 
Jews.  But  when  was  it  that  Esaias  had  spoken  of  God's 
blinding  their  eyes,  and  hardening  their  hearts  ?  You 
have  heard  in  the  first  lesson  of  this  morning's  service,  the 
lesson  which  contains  the  account  of  a  marvellous  vision 
vouchsafed  to  Isaiah ;  and  wishing  to  discourse  to  you  on 


168  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

that  vision,  we  take  our  text  as  furnishing  the  clue  to  its 
right  interpretation,  inasmuch  as  it  shows,  what  we  might 
not  else  have  been  able  to  prove,  that  the  personage  there- 
in introduced,  with  so  much  of  sublime  and  magnificent 
accompaniment,  is  none  other  than  the  ever-blessed  Re- 
deemer, the  "  Man  of  sorrows,"  but,  at  the  same  time,  the 
"  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords."  It  was  Christ,  whom 
the  Prophet  saw  seated  on  a  throne  which  could  be  none 
other  than  that  of  absolute  Deity,  before  whom  seraphim 
veiled  their  faces,  and  in  regard  of  whom  they  called  the 
one  to  the  other,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts ; 
the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory." 

For  this  was  the  vision.  The  Lord  was  on  his  throne  : 
his  train  filled  the  Temple:  the  seraphim  stood  around, 
each  with  six  wings — burning  creatures  ;  for  such  the  name 
signifies — with  two  of  these  wings  each  seraph  covered  his 
face ;  wherefore,  but  in  token,  and  in  adoration,  of  the 
awful  majesty  of  Christ?  "With  twain  He  covered  his 
feet ;"  wherefore,  but  to  teach  us  that  we  may  not  always 
think  to  trace  the  course  of  God's  dealings  ?  The  feet  of 
his  ministers  are  covered  as  well  as  winged ;  yea,  covered 
by  their  wings,  so  that  their  very  motion  may  be  conceal- 
ment. "  And  with  twain  he  did  fly ;"  wherefore,  but  to 
show  us  the  alacrity  with  which  angelic  beings  give  them- 
selves to  the  executing  the  purposes  of  their  Maker? 
You  read  that  the  train  of  the  Lord  filled  the  whole 
Temple,  just  as,  according  to  the  song  of  the  seraphim, 
was  the  whole  earth  to  become  "  full  of  his  glory."  Who 
are  we  that  we  kindle  not  at  the  thought  of  the  universal 
dominion  of  Christ?  When  the  Pharisees  would  have 
had  our  Lord  rebuke  his  disciples  because  they  shouted 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  169 

his  praises,  "  He  answered,  and  said  unto  them,  I  tell  you 
that,  if  these  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would 
immediately  cry  out."  And  as  though  both  to  incite  and 
reproach  us  through  inanimate  things,  the  chorus  of  the 
seraphim,  heard  perhaps  coldly  by  ourselves,  produced 
commotion  in  the  magnificent  sanctuary :  the  wood,  if  not 
the  stone,  answered  to  the  call,  and  seemed  to  breathe  out 
response  in  mysterious  cloud ;  for  we  read,  "  And  the 
posts  of  the  door  moved  at  the  voice  of  Him  that  cried, 
and  the  house  was  filled  with  smoke." 

And  what  effect  was  produced  on  Isaiah,  when  he  thus 
saw  the  glory  of  the  Eedeemer  ?  We  cannot  wonder  that 
he  was  confounded  by  such  an  unearthly  manifestation,  that 
the  splendours  of  the  occupant  of  the  throne,  the  voices 
of  the  seraphim,  the  shakings  of  the  Temple,  all  combined 
to  the  overwhelming  him  with  dread.  You  have  the  effect 
thus  described :  "  Then  said  I,  Woe  is  me  !  for  I  am  un- 
done, because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in 
the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips ;  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts."  The  Prophet, 
however,  was  not  left  in  this  his  dread  and  perplexity. 
You  next  read,  "  Then  flew  one  of  the  seraphim  unto  me, 
having  a  live  coal  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  taken  with  the 
tongs  from  off  the  altar ;  and  he  laid  it  upon  my  mouth, 
and  said,  Lo,  this  hath  touched  thy  lips,  and  thine  iniquity 
is  taken  away,  and  thy  sin  purged." 

We  think  that  there  is  very  interesting  and  instructive 
subject-matter  of  discourse,  both  in  the  deportment  or 
conduct  of  Isaiah,  and  the  emblematical  action  which  was 
then  wrought  upon  him.  We  invite  you  to  the  careful 
consideration  of  both  of  these,  brought  before  us  as  they 


170  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

have  been  by  the  lesson  of  the  day.  Come,  then,  and  let 
us  examine  the  perturbed  exclamations  of  the  Prophet, 
and  the  mode  which  God  took  to  re-assure  his  servant,  on 
that  memorable  occasion  when,  according  to  the  Evangelist 
John,  Esaias  saw  the  glory  of  Christ,  and  spake  of  Him 
to  the  world. 

And  was  then  the  Prophet  confounded  and  overcome  ? 
Ah,  my  brethren,  how  affecting  a  testimony  is  given  to  the 
corruption  and  alienation  of  our  nature,  by  the  fact  that  a 
manifestation  of  the  Divine  glory  could  produce  in  us 
nothing  but  dread  and  confusion.  Not  one  of  us  will  for  a 
moment  imagine  that  less  terror  would  be  excited  in  him- 
self by  the  throne,  and  the  voice,  and  the  smoke,  than 
was  displayed  by  Isaiah.  Put  the  case.  Gathered  as  we 
are  within  the  house  of  the  Lord,  we  may  suppose  the 
house  suddenly  filled  with  manifestations  of  that  presence 
which  is  not  indeed  the  less  actual,  because  not  proved  by 
any  visible  tokens :  we  may  imagine  the  Divinity,  who  is 
undoubtedly  in  the  midst  of  us,  though  not  so  as  to  be 
perceptible  by  our  senses,  forcing  Himself,  as  it  were,  on 
every  eye,  and  every  ear,  by  an  unearthly  spectacle  and 
unearthly  sounds.  We  do  not  speak  of  a  manifestation 
of  God  as  taking  vengeance ;  but  only  of  a  manifestation 
of  glory  and  greatness,  stripped  so  far  as  such  a  manifesta- 
tion could  be,  of  every  thing  necessarily  appalling — a 
manifestation  of  the  pomp  and  splendour  of  heavenly 
places  and  heavenly  beings  ;  a  manifestation  of  Christ  in 
his  essential  dignities,  surrounded  by  ministering  spirits 
who  celebrate  his  holiness. 

It  might  be,  that,  on  a  sudden,  a  brightness,  such  as 
was  not  of  this  earth,  pervaded  the  house  of  the  Lord: 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  171 

the  radiant  form  of  the  Son  of  Man,  throned  on  the  fire 
and  the  cloud,  might  be  visible  to  every  eye ;  whilst  sera- 
phim went  to  and  fro,  mysteriously  beautiful,  weaving  a 
high  song  of  triumph  and  celebration.  And  what  effect 
would  be  wrought  on  the  whole  of  this  assembly  ?  Not 
merely  on  those  who  are  still  at  enmity  with  God,  and 
living  in  actual  contempt  of  his  authority,  but  on  others 
who  may  be  regarded  as  righteous,  whose  endeavour  it  is 
to  keep  the  commandments  of  their  Creator  and  Redeemer  ? 
We  need  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  effect  would  be  uni- 
versally the  same  as  on  Isaiah.  If  all  utterance  were  not 
taken  away  by  terror,  every  tongue,  the  tongue  of  the 
righteous,  and  the  tongue  of  the  unrighteous,  would  fear- 
fully exclaim,  "  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone :"  in  place  of 
any  tiling  like  delight  in  the  glorious  manifestation,  and 
desire  for  its  continuance,  there  would,  at  the  best,  be  a 
sense  of  uneasiness  and  dread,  a  kind  of  feeling  analogous 
to  that  which  prompted  the  Gergesenes  to  beseech  the 
Redeemer  to  depart  out  of  their  coasts  ;  and  it  would  be 
considered  as  a  relief,  every  one  would  be  more  at  his  ease, 
when  all  traces  of  the  burning  display  had  disappeared, 
and  there  were  no  longer  the  figures  of  seraphim  before 
our  eyes,  nor  their  anthems  in  our  ears. 

But  how  is  this  ?  Wherefore  comes  it  that  there  should 
be  such  shrinking  from  contact  with  the  invisible  world  ? 
a  shrinking  of  which  every  one  must  be  conscious,  foras- 
much as  the  dread  of  what  is  called  an  apparition  may  be 
declared  universal,  and  the  stoutest,  if  they  thought  them- 
selves confronted  by  a  spirit,  the  inhabitant  of  another 
state  of  being,  would  experience  a  fear  and  a  recoil  such 
as  an  army  of  living  men,  however  threatening  their  atti- 


172  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

tude,  might  fail  to  excite.  Ah,  my  brethren,  you  cannot 
require  that  we  should  go  at  any  length  into  answering 
these  questions.  You  can  answer  them  for  yourselves. 
Your  own  hearts,  your  own  consciences,  furnish  the  reply. 
It  is  nothing  but  the  corruption,  the  alienation,  of  our 
nature,  which  makes  us  averse  from  immediate  contact 
with  spiritual  intelligences.  Man  is  far  gone  from  origi- 
nal righteousness:  even  those,  who  have  been  renewed 
through  the  operations  of  God's  Spirit,  retain  so  many 
traces  of  the  fall,  indwelling  sin  is  still  in  such  measure 
unsubdued,  that  there  is  want  of  thorough  congeniality 
between  themselves  and  beings  of  unspotted  holiness ;  and 
this  want  of  congeniality  will  produce  a  sense  of  uneasi- 
ness, whenever  they  are  forced  into  unusual  intercourse. 
Were  we  an  assembly  of  unfallen  creatures,  waiting  for  a 
season  when  we  should  be  admitted  into  intimate  and 
eternal  communion  with  God,  it  would  be  to  us  a  foretaste 
of  blessedness,  to  have  the  Lord  amongst  us  on  his  throne, 
and  the  angelic  throng  made  visible  in  their  beauty :  far 
from  imitating  Peter,  when  he  exclaimed,  overpowered  by 
the  miracle,  "  Depart  from  me,  O  Lord,"  we  should  copy 
him  in  his  rapture  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration ;  we 
should  long  to  build  tabernacles,  that  we  might  detain  the 
shining  visitants,  and  never  again  lose  so  delightful  a  com- 
panionship. 

But,  alas,  sinfulness  has  been  so  ingrained  into  our 
nature,  that  it  must  be  eradicated  by  death,  before  we  can 
bear  Heaven.  We  cannot  feel  at  home  with  God,  and 
with  Christ,  and  with  Angels,  until  the  earthly  house  of' 
this  tabernacle  be  resolved,  that  both  soul  and  body  may 
be  purged  from  all  remainders  of  corruption.     But  is  not 


JX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  173 

this  amongst   the    most   melancholy    and   convincing   of 
proofs,  that  it  is  not  the  exaggeration  of  a  morbid  the- 
ology, which  declares  the  human  heart  to  be  "deceitful 
above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked  ?"     It  tells,  we 
think,  almost  more  against  our  fallen  nature,  that  a  good 
man  should  shrink  from  God,  than  that  a  bad  man  should 
league  with  Satan.    And  you  might,  when  wishing  to  give 
evidence  that  we  have  indeed  gone  astray,  like  lost  sheep, 
from  God,  point  out  such  an  instance  as  that  of  Saul  in 
the  cave  of  the  sorceress,  asking  whether,  as  there  went 
on  the  unhallowed  incantations,  and  the  form  of  an   old 
man  came   up  shrouded  in   a  mantle,   and    the   appalled 
monarch,  from  whom  the  Lord  had  departed,  so  that  He 
answered  him  neither  by  dreams,  nor  by  Urim,  nor  bv 
prophets,  sought  to  disquiet  the  dead,   and   wring  from 
them  secrets,  there  was  not  furnished  a  terrible  demon- 
stration of  the  disruption  which  sin  hath  made  between 
man  and  holiness — but  indeed  there  is  another  scene  which 
is  yet  more  affecting  in  its  testimony — not  the  cave  of  the 
sorceress,  but  the  Temple  of  Jehovah — that  Temple,  not 
crowded  with   wild   figures,  that  have  risen   beneath  the 
circlings  of  the  wand   of  the  magician,  and  not  echoing 
the  muttered  spells  of  necromancy;  but  filled  with   the 
train  of  the  Lord,  and  resounding  with  the  melodies  of 
angels;  and  Isaiah,  in  the  midst  of  the  gorgeous  manifest- 
ation— Isaiah,  chosen  of  God  as  the  Prophet  to  his  people 
— Isaiah,  smiting  on  his  breast,  like  one  in  utter  despair, 
exclaiming,  "  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone,'1  though,  all  the 
while,  according  to  our  text,  it  is  Christ,  the  Redeemer,  of 
whom  he  beholds  the  glory,  and  Christ,  the  Redeemer,  of 
whom  he  speaks. 


174  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

But  we  have  not  yet  touched  on  the  reasons  which 
Isaiah  gives  for  being  sorely  confounded  at  beholding  the 
glories  of  Christ.  We  have  only  considered  the  general 
truth,  that  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine  glory  will  always 
be  overwhelming  to  men  in  their  present  condition,  and 
we  have  used  this  truth  as  a  testimony  to  the  depravity 
and  alienation  of  our  nature.  It  must  be  observed, 
however,  that  it  was  on  a  special  account  that  Isaiah 
pronounced  himself  "  undone,"  and  this  special  account 
must  not  be  passed  over  without  examination.  "  I  am 
a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a 
people  of  unclean  lips ;  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King, 
the  Lord  of  Hosts."  Himself  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  how 
was  he  to  speak,  as  he  ought  to  speak,  in  the  name  of 
that  Being  in  whose  presence  he  stood,  and  whose  purities 
were  so  dazzling  as  to  be  fearful  ?  The  people,  moreover, 
amongst  whom  he  was  to  minister,  were  a  people  of  un- 
clean lips :  he  was  sent  to  require  from  them  that  they 
should  worship  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ;  but  how  were 
they  to  obey  with  tongues  so  denied  ?  Thus  it  would 
seem  that,  in  looking  on  the  glories  of  God,  Isaiah  became 
penetrated  with  the  sense  of  having  unworthily  borne  the 
office  of  Prophet :  never  before  had  he  felt,  as  now  that  the 
Lord  discovered  his  Majesty,  what  awful  and  ill-performed 
duties  were  his — he  a  Prophet  of  unclean  lips,  and  minis- 
tering amongst  a  people  of  unclean  lips.  It  was  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  which  threw  light  upon  this :  he  had 
never  seen  his  sin  in  all  its  enormity,  till  he  saw  it  irra- 
diated by  the  shinings  of  God's  presence. 

And,  my  brethren,  if  you  will  consider  for  a  moment, 
you  will  have  little   difficulty  in  understanding  why  the 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  175 

sight  of  the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  should  have  moved 
Isaiah  to  so  piteous  an  exclamation.  It  is  the  effect  which 
a  manifestation  of  the  Divine  purity  must  produce  in 
every  one  who  endeavours  to  act  up  to  his  vows  as  a 
minister  of  Christ.  Whilst  he  is  actually  engaged  in  the 
business  of  his  calling,  plying  the  ungodly  with  the  threat- 
enings  of  the  Word,  and  striving  to  build  up  the  righteous 
in  the  faith  of  the  Redeemer,  it  is  possible  enough  that  he 
may  see  but  little  with  which  to  reproach  himself :  he  can- 
not, indeed,  fail  to  be  conscious  that  he  comes  far  short  of 
what  a  pastor  should  be — but  to  come  short  is  human; 
and,  with  all  his  defects,  he  is  perhaps  proposed  as  a  pat- 
tern by  his  fellow-labourers  in  the  ministry.  The  mere 
excitement  and  bustle  of  duty  will  perhaps  do  much 
towards  preventing  his  discovering  his  manifold  imperfec- 
tions ;  and  even  when  he  sets  himself  patiently  to  the  hard 
work  of  self-examination,  there  are  so  many  cross-lights, 
the  medium  through  which  every  thing  is  viewed  is  so 
deceitful  and  distorting,  that  he  will  be  almost  sure  to  err 
in  his  conclusions :  he  cannot  think  too  meanly  of  himself, 
but  alas,  alas,  how  easy  not  to  think  meanly  enough. 

But,  oh,  if  he  had  but  one  glimpse  of  the  glories  of 
Heaven ;  if,  for  one  moment,  he  were  environed  with  the 
splendours  of  that  Being,  who  "  clothed  Himself  with 
light  as  with  a  garment,"  and  whose  "  eyes  are  as  a  flame 
of  fire  ;"  what  confusion  of  face,  Avhat  self-abasement,  what 
terror  must  ensue  !  Have  I  dared  to  speak  in  the  name 
of  a  God  thus  awfully  resplendent  ?  I,  who  am  myself 
shapen  in  iniquity,  and  who  cannot  abide  the  searchings 
of  this  terrible  brightness — have  I  presumed  to  teach 
others,  wicked,  depraved  as  myself,  how  to  worship  and 


176  ISAIAH'S  VISION  [Lect. 

serve  so  fearful,  because  so  holy,  a  Being  ?  indeed,  indeed, 
upon  earth,  whilst  I  knew  God  only  by  the  ear,  I  appeared 
earnest,  devout,  faithful ;  but  in  Heaven,  now  that  mine 
eye  seeth  Him,  I  am  worse  than  an  unprofitable  servant :  I 
seem  to  have  placed  myself  before  an  altar,  the  fire  kin- 
dled upon  which  must  consume  the  polluted  creature  who 
has  ventured  to  draw  near,  and  undertake  so  tremendous 
an  office.  Yes,  my  brethren,  it  could  not  be  but  that  a 
sight  of  the  Lord  upon  his  throne,  with  the  seraphim 
standing  round  him  in  their  brightness,  would  force  the 
most  sincere  and  diligent  of  pastors  to  break  into  such  an 
exclamation  as  that  of  Isaiah.  It  is  not  necessarily  that 
he  can  accuse  himself  of  actual  inattention  to  the  duties 
of  hk  calling.  It  is  not  that  he  can  say  that  he  has  failed 
to  warn,  with  all  fidelity,  the  hardened  transgressor,  or 
that  he  has  kept  back  the  rich  promises  which  God,  in  his 
graciousness,  has  breathed  to  the  repentant.  But  it  is, 
that,  habituated  to  human  standards,  and  earthly  measures, 
he  has  but  dim  conceptions  of  the  burning  majesty  of  the 
Being  whose  messages  he  has  undertaken  to  deliver.  In 
proportion  as  those  conceptions  are  strengthened  and 
cleared,  he  will  necessarily  be  more  and  more  struck  with 
his  own  unfitness  for  so  high  a  ministration,  and  more  and 
more  conscious  that  it  has  been  so  discharged  as  to  entail 
upon  him,  in  justice,  nothing  but  wrath.  Give  him,  then, 
the  conceptions  which  an  actual  view  of  Heaven  would 
generate,  and  who  shall  tell  us  how  overwhelming  will  be 
his  sense  of  deficiency  and  danger  ? 

I  may  stand  here  now,  and  publish  the  everlasting 
Gospel,  offering  in  the  name  of  Him  who  died  upon  Cal- 
vary, pardon  to  every  sinner  who  will  confess  and  forsake 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  177 

sin.  And  whilst  there  are  none  around  me — none,  that  is, 
visibly — but  creatures  of  the  same  race  and  sinfulness  with 
myself,  there  may  be  in  me  all  the  aspect  of  faithfulness 
and  zeal ;  I  may,  perhaps,  feel,  whilst  I  throw  all  mine 
earnestness  into  an  energetic  remonstrance  and  appeal,  as 
though  I  had  no  cause  for  self-reproach,  but  must,  at  all 
events,  be  clear  from  the  blood  of  those  whom  I  have 
been  commissioned  to  address.  But  imagine  the  preacher 
arrested  in  the  midst  of  his  discourse  by  such  a  manifesta- 
tion as  was  vouchsafed  to  the  Prophet — the  sanctuary  be- 
coming mysteriously  illuminated ;  the  Redeemer  displaying 
Himself,  not  as  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  but  in  all  the  radiance 
which  He  wears  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father ;  the 
angelic  hosts  dazzlingly  beautiful,  yet  showing  how  un- 
worthy is  the  highest  of  creatures  to  do  service  to  God, 
by  veiling  their  faces  with  their  wings — and  I  am  sure 
that  the  preacher  would  be  instantly  struck  dumb — not 
merely,  and  not  mainly,  because  a  supernatural  exhibition 
will  always  produce  terror;  but  because  that  exhibition, 
being  one  of  the  glories  of  the  Mediator,  must  equally  be 
one  of  the  infirmities,  the  deficiencies,  the  transgressions, 
of  his  ministers ;  and  the  preacher,  if  he  found  a  tongue 
at  all,  would  find  it  only  to  exclaim,  "  Woe  is  me !  for  I 
am  undone;  because  I  am  a  mau  of  unclean  lips,  and  I 
dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips" — thus 
taking  as  his  own  the  very  things  which  Esaias  said,  when 
he  saw  Christ's  "glory,  and  spake  of  Him." 

But  now  let  us  consider  the  symbolical  action  of  which 
the  Prophet  was  made  the  subject,  and  the  comforting 
words  with  which  he  was  addressed.     He  had,  you  ob- 
serve, confessed  his  sin,  and  that  too  in  terms  which  suffi- 
12 


178  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

ciently  showed  that  the  heart  went  along  with  the  lip  in 
the  touching  acknowledgment.  And  though  there  had 
not  then  been  the  full  revelation  of  the  plan  devised  by 
God  for  human  forgiveness,  the  connexion  between  con- 
fession and  pardon  had  all  along  been  declared ;  so  that, 
under  the  Jewish  dispensation,  as  well  as  under  the  Chris- 
tian, to  acknowledge  iniquity  was  to  have  interest  in 
promises  which  pledged  its  remission.  It  was,  therefore, 
in  consistence  with  the  general  course  of  Divine  dealings, 
that  the  Prophet's  confession  should  be  followed  by  an 
assurance  of  the  Almighty's  forgiveness.  It  was  further, 
a  sort  of  anticipation,  or  revelation  of  the  privileges  be- 
longing to  believers  in  Christ,  that  one  of  the  seraphim 
should  be  employed  in  conveying  to  Isaiah  the  assurance 
of  pardon:  we  know  that  angels  are  "all  ministering 
spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  unto  them  that  shall  be  heirs 
of  salvation;"  and  it  might  have  helped  to  teach  the 
Prophet  this  comforting  truth,  that  there  came  a  mes- 
senger from  that  burning  throng,  on  which  he  had  hardly 
dared  to  look,  to  tell  him  that  his  iniquity  was  taken 
away. 

But  with  what  was  the  seraph  armed  ?  through  what 
instrumentality  did  the  glorious  spirit  convey,  as  it  were,, 
pardon  to  the  terrified  Prophet?  You  read  that  the 
seraph  had  "  a  live  coal  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  taken  with 
the  tongs  from  off  the  altar :"  with  this  coal  he  touched 
the  lips  whose  uncleanness  Isaiah  had  bewailed;  and, 
having  done  this,  he  pronounced  that  the  sin,  committed 
or  confessed,  was  now  also  purged.  And  we  are  evidently 
to  understand  that  the  purifying  virtue  was  in  this  live 
coal :  the  action  was  not  only  symbolical  or  significative  ; 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  vision.  I7y 

it  was  operative  and  efficacious ;  for  the  angel  makes  the 
taking  away  of  iniquity  to  follow  on  the  application  of  the 
coal,  just  as  an  effect  follows  on  a  cause — "Lo,  this  hath 
touched  thy  lips,  and  thine  iniquity  is  taken  away,  and 
thy  sin  purged." 

But  what  was  there,  what  could  there  be,  in  a  coal 
taken  from  the  altar  of  burnt-offering  at  the  entrance  to 
the  Temple,  to  make  it  prevalent  to  the  forgiveness  of  the 
Prophet's  transgression  ?  The  altar,  indeed,  was  that  on 
which  the  fire,  divinely  kindled  at  the  first,  blazed  perpet- 
ually, as  though  to  image  the  inextinguishable  lustres  of 
God :  but  how  could  sin  be  pardoned  through  the  mere 
application  of  fire,  though  celestial  in  origin,  and  burning 
night  and  day  as  burn  the  seraphim  that  stand  before  the 
Lord  ?  We  need  hardly  observe  to  you,  that  there  could 
have  been  no  virtue  naturally  in  the  coal ;  that  the  whole 
virtue  must  have  been  derived  from  some  fire,  or  some 
burnt-offering,  to  which  the  coal  bore  a  typical  relation. 
And  no  one  living  in  Christian  times,  and  blessed  with 
Christian  privileges,  can  doubt  for  a  moment  what  this 
typical  relation  was.  We  have  already  shown  you,  from 
our  text,  that  the  vision  was  a  vision  of  Christ ;  that  the 
Lord  on  Whom  the  Prophet  gazed,  "  sitting  upon  a  throne 
high  and  lifted  up,"  was  none  other  than  the  second  Per- 
son in  the  Trinity,  Who  had  covenanted,  that  in  the  full- 
ness of  time  He  would  assume  our  nature,  and  take  away 
sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  Himself.  And  if  this  were  a  vision 
of  Christ  in  his  glory,  rather  than  of  Christ  in  his  humili- 
ation, a  vision  more  fitted  to  instruct  Isaiah  as  to  the  exalt- 
ation of  the  Mediator,  than  to  show  him  how  He  would  be 
the  "  propitiation  for  our  sins,"  you  are  yet  to  observe  that 


180  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

the  scenery  of  the  vision  was  laid  in  the  Temple,  that 
Temple,  all  whose  furniture,  and  whose  every  rite,  was 
emblematical  of  the  suretyship  and  the  oblation  of  Christ. 
The  fire  was  still  burning  on  the  altar,  though  the  Lord 
was  on  his  throne,  clad  in  that  glory  which  was  to  be 
gained  through  extinguishing  the  sacrificial  flames,  ex- 
tinguishing them  by  the  one  oblation  of  Himself.  And 
therefore  might  it  justly  be  said  that  the  Temple,  thus  lit 
up,  and  thus  crowded  with  brilliant  forms,  presented  to 
the  Prophet  a  complete  parable  of  Redemption :  from  the 
altar  of  burnt-offering,  whose  fires  went  not  out  though 
celestial  shinings  flooded  the  Sanctuary,  might  he  learn 
that  the  Divinity,  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator,  would 
not  rescue  the  humanity  from  the  flames  of  God's  wrath 
against  sin :  from  the  throne,  with  all  the  attendant  gorge- 
ousness,  might  he  be  instructed,  that  when  the  work  of 
suffering  was  complete,  there  would  be  given  to  the 
Saviour  "  a  name  above  every  name,"  and  that  Saviour 
should  sit  "  in  heavenly  places,"  "  the  Head  over  all  things 
to  the  Church." 

O  blessed  and  comforting  truth,  that,  in  his  office  of 
Intercessor,  Christ  still  preserves  the  character  of  a  sacri- 
fice. Well  for  us,  that  the  train  of  his  glory,  whilst  filling 
the  Temple,  leaves  the  flame  still  bright  upon  the  brazen 
altar.  Continually  offending,  we  need  a  propitiation  con- 
tinually offered :  and  verily  we  have  it,  forasmuch  as, 
though  crucified  but  once,  and  the  one  death  sufficing  for 
the  life  of  the  world,  Christ  Jesus  appears  in  heavenly 
places  "  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain,"  and  intercedes  on 
our  behalf  by  pleading  the  merits  of  the"  blood  shed  on 
Calvary.     There  needed  nothing  beyond  the  mere  touch- 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  181 

ing  of  the  lips  of  the  Prophet — those  who,  when  Christ 
was  upon  earth,  touched  even  the  hem  of  his  garment, 
were  immediately  made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease  they 
had ;  and  now  that  Christ  is  in  Heaven,  they  who  believe 
upon  his  Name,  and  by  that  belief  bring  themselves,  as  it 
were,  into  contact  with  his  sacrifice,  obtain  at  once  the 
remission  of  sins,  and  may  hear  celestial  voices  assuring 
them  of  pardon. 

But  then  it  is  as  a  "  live  coal"  that  Christ  acts,  when 
apprehended  and  appropriated  by  faith.  He  was  to  "  bap- 
tize with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire."  The  spirit  of 
burning  is  in  the  communications  of  Himself — a  spirit  to 
consume  our  dross,  to  refine  us  even  as  silver  is  refined, 
that  we  may  be  a  worthy  offering  to  his  Father  in  Heaven. 
He  was  verily  the  "  live  coal,"  in  that  He  was  ardent  with 
zeal  for  God,  and  with  love  for  man;  in  that  He  was 
jealous  for  both,  with  a  jealousy  such  as  we  read  of  in  the 
Book  of  the  Canticles,  "  the  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire, 
which  hath  a  most  vehement  flame."  But  He  is  still  the 
"  live  coal,"  wheresoever  He  is  the  Saviour.  He  will,  He 
must,  burn  out  the  corruptions  of  our  nature,  where  He 
sets  the  seal  of  forgiveness.  That  seal  is  a  thing  of  fire  : 
the  impress  which  it  leaves  is  an  impress  of  purity;  but 
purity  is  to  be  wrought  in  creatures  like  ourselves,  only 
through  cauterizing  processes ;  and,  therefore,  think  not  to 
be  stamped  as  pardoned,  except  as  sanctified  through 
flame.  Never  yet  has  the  seraph  been  commissioned  to 
fly  towards  you  with  an  assurance  of  forgiveness,  if  you 
have  not  found  in  religion  a  purifying  energy,  if  the  word 
of  the  Lord  have  never  been  to  you,  what  it  is  called  in 
the  Prophecies  of  Jeremiah,  "  a  fire,"  a  fire  to  burn  up  the 


182  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect 

chaff  and  the  stubble ;  if  the  Redeemer's  death  have  not 
been  felt  by  you  as  a  prevalent  motive  to  the  mortifying 
the  flesh ;  if  you  have  not  been  constrained,  by  his  sacri- 
fice, to  present  yourselves  living  sacrifices  unto  God.  But 
if  indeed  you  can  feel  that  a  sanctifying  work  is  going  on 
within  you ;  that,  as  though  some  devouring  energy  had 
been  mysteriously  introduced,  and  were  powerfully,  though 
painfully,  eating  away  the  pride,  and  the  malice,  and  the 
lustfulness  of  nature,  you  are  daily  becoming  more  and 
more  fitted  for  the  habitation  of  a  God  who  cannot  dwell 
with  iniquity — then  it  may  never  have  happened  to  you 
to  behold  the  Lord  upon  his  throne  ;  never  may  you  have 
been  surrounded  with  manifestations  of  heavenly  glory ; 
never  may  you  have  seen  one  of  those  bright  and  beautiful 
creatures,  "the  ministers  of  God  that  do  his  pleasure," 
hastening  towards  you  with  the  means  and  tokens  of  for- 
giveness— but  be  of  good  cheer ;  the  live  coal  has  touched 
you,  otherwise  never  would  there  have  been  these  signs  of 
spiritual  renewal ;  and  the  man,  who  is  growing  in  holi- 
ness, has  to  the  full  as  much  evidence  of  his  pardon,  as 
though  the  winged  seraph  had  flown  towards  him  with  the 
live  coal  from  the  altar,  and  pronounced  audibly  the  ani- 
mating words,  "  Lo,  this  hath  touched  thy  lips,  and  thine 
iniquity  is  taken  away,  and  thy  sin  purged" — even  as  was 
done  to  the  Prophet,  when,  in  the  language  of  our  text, 
Esaias  saw  Christ's  glory,  and  spake  of  Him  to  the  Jews. 

But  we  must  recur  to  that  portion  of  our  discourse  in 
which  we  dwelt  on  a  manifestation  of  Divine  glory,  as 
adapted  to  produce  in  us  confusion  and  dread ;  for  there  is 
an  important  practical  lesson  derivable  from  this  fact,  on 
which  we  did  not  touch,  but  which  ought  not  to  be  over- 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  183 

looked.  You  can  hardly  be  unaware,  that,  when  inspired 
writers  would  animate  Christians  to  diligence  in  their  call- 
ing, they  dwell  especially  on  the  second  advent  of  Christ, 
overlooking,  as  it  were,  the  grave,  and  directing  thought 
to  the  Resurrection,  rather  than  to  death.  When  anxious 
to  urge  men  to  the  forsaking  of  iniquity,  or  the  running 
with  patience  the  race  set  before  them,  they  do  not  so 
much  remind  them  of  their  possible  nearness  to  the  grave, 
or  of  the  certainty,  that,  ere  many  years  have  elapsed, 
they  must  depart  out  of  life — they  rather  bid  them  antici- 
pate the  day  of  wonder  and  of  terror,  when  the  Lord 
Jesus  shall  be  revealed  in  flaming  fire  from  Heaven,  when 
"  He  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and  admired 
in  all  them  that  believe." 

And  there  is  nothing  in  this  conduct  of  the  inspired 
writers,  but  what  may  be  explained  and  vindicated  upon 
principles,  of  whose  accuracy  you  are  all  competent  judges. 
There  is  certainly  very  little  effect  wrought  by  the  most 
touching  delineations  of  the  uncertainty  of  life.  For  the 
moment  indeed  the  effect  is  apparently  great :  a  kind  of 
painful  spell  is  thrown  over  an  audience,  and  the  most  in- 
different amongst  them  seemed  awed  into  attention,  when 
the  preacher  makes  appeal  to  the  shroud  and  the  coffin, 
and,  asserting  the  progress  of  some  desolating  sickness, 
and  the  frequency  of  funerals  which  darken  the  streets, 
entreats  men  to  give  heed  to  religion,  on  the  principle  that 
probably  death  is  almost  at  their  doors.  But,  whatever 
the  aspect  of  attention  which  allusions  to  sickness  and  the 
grave  will  produce  in  assemblies,  there  is  commonly  made 
but  little  permanent  impression ;  and  therefore  it  is  not 
upon  death  that  inspired  writers  dwell,  when  seeking  to 


184  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

produce  moral  vigilance  and  endeavour.  They  strive  to 
bring  men  to  contemplate  the  day,  not  when  they  shall  be 
stretched  on  the  bed  of  languishing,  or  bound  up  for 
burial,  but  when  they  shall  stand  before  the  Son  of  man 
in  his  glory,  and  have  every  secret  exposed  by  the  bright- 
ness of  his  presence.  And  this  is  wise,  seeing  that  it  is 
the  view  of  the  glory  of  God  which  excites  in  Isaiah  the 
consciousness  of  his  own  sinfulness,  and  of  the  wrath 
thence  deserved. 

I  do  not,  therefore,  ask  you  to  go  with  me  to  the 
churchyard,  that  there,  amid  the  graves  of  all  ages  and 
ranks,  you  may  learn  how  frail  you  are,  and  study  the 
necessity  of  preparing  to  meet  God.  But  I  would  have 
you  go  with  me  in  thought  to  the  tremendous  scene  of 
judgment.  And  you  are  not  to  regard  yourselves  as  mere 
spectators  of  the  mighty  assize:  you  form  part  of  that 
interminable  throng  which  presses  forward  to  the  bar: 
every  one  of  you  is  there  ;  and  in  the  awful  volume  which 
stands  before  the  Judge,  is  registered  indelibly  every  sin 
committed  during  residence  on  earth.  What  think  you  of 
your  condition  ?  What  think  you  of  your  prospect  of 
acquittal?  You  may  have  been  wont  to  compare  your- 
selves with  others ;  and  because  the  comparison  seemed  to 
tell  in  your  favour,  you  may  have  hoped  for  acceptance 
with  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead.  Where  is  the  hope 
now  ?  As  you  behold  the  dazzling  purities  of  this  Judge, 
do  you  feel  that  He  will  be  content  with  any  such  virtues 
as  you  once  were  able  to  regard  with  complacency  ?  You 
may  have  imagined  that  much  would  pass  unobserved,- 
that,  occupied  with  ordering  all  the  affairs-  of  immensity, 
God  would  not  note  the  every  action  of  creatures  insigni- 


IX.]  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  185 

ficant  as  yourselves !  Where  is  the  delusion  now  ?  Can 
it  endure  before  that  eye,  the  lightest  glance  of  which  is 
piercing  with  Omniscience  ?  do  you  feel  as  if  there  might 
be  concealment,  now  that  the  Universe  is  lit  up  by  the 
brightness  of  the  countenance  of  the  Judge  ?  You  may 
have  supposed  that  God  would  not  make  good  his  threat- 
enings,  that  he  would  be  more  compassionate  than  his 
word  had  announced,  allowing  sinners  to  escape  from  the 
penalties,  who  had  here  lived  in  despite  to  the  precepts, 
of  his  law.  Where  is  the  supposition  now?  Holds  it 
good  amid  all  this  tremendous  heraldry  of  wrath  ?  or,  as 
you  look  upon  the  Lord,  and  mark  the  prints  of  the 
wounds  inflicted  because  of  God's  utter  determination  of 
punishing  sin,  do  you  feel  that  there  is  a  likelihood  of 
uncovenanted  mercy,  of  the  Divine  word  being  broken 
that  you  may  be  delivered  ? 

No,  no — if  you  were  before  the  throne,  if  the  glory, 
the  burning  glory,  of  the  Judge  encompassed  you,  if  the 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  ministering  spirits,  that 
shall  attend  the  Son  of  man,  were  glancing  to  and  fro, 
ready  not  only  to  gather  the  wheat  into  the  garner,  but  to 
bind  the  tares  in  bundles  for  the  burning,  all  self-deceit 
would  be  at  an  end,  all  hypocrisy  self-exposed,  all  false 
confidence  overthrown ;  and  if  you  had  not  made  cove- 
nant with  the  Judge  as  your  Mediator,  the  piercing  cry  of 
each  of  you  would  be,  "  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone ; 
mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts."  And 
therefore  would  we  be  earnest  in  directing  your  thoughts 
to  Christ's  second  Advent,  rather  than  to  death.  Meditate 
much  on  the  Advent ;  and  in  proportion  as  you  anticipate 
the  spectacle  of  the  Lord  upon  his  throne,  high  and  lifted 


186  ISAIAH'S  VISION.  [Lect. 

up,  you  will  be  likely,  with  Isaiah,  to  feel  your  unclean- 
ness,  and,  confessing  it,  to  obtain  its  being  taken  away. 
Oh,  that  we  might  all  seek  to  be  reconciled  unto  God, 
whilst  it  is  yet  the  fire  which  purifies,  not  that  which  con- 
sumes, which  burns  upon  the  altar.  Whilst  seraphim  are 
yet  ministering  spirits,  whilst  we  have  not  yet  armed 
against  ourselves  the  whole  company  of  unfallen  angels, 
let  us  turn  unto  the  Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart.  There 
is  no  reason  why  any  amongst  us  should  treasure  up 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath.  Though  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  judicial  blindness — for  it  was  of  this,  that,  accord- 
ing to  our  text,  Esaias  spake  when  he  had  seen  the  won- 
drous vision — "  He  hath  blinded  their  eyes,  and  hardened 
their  heart ;  that  they  should  not  see  with  their  eyes,  and 
understand  with  their  heart,  and  be  converted,  and  I 
should  heal  them" — O  fearful  fate,  when  in  just  judgment 
for  protracted  impenitence,  God  gives  men  up,  and  with- 
draws from  them  his  Spirit — still  we  have  no  cause  to 
believe  this  of  any  of  you.  The  throne  of  Judgment  is 
not  yet  ascended :  the  coal  in  the  seraph's  hand  is  that 
which  purges  away  our  dross :  Oh,  God  is  indeed  a  con- 
suming fire ;  but  let  us  fall  before  the  cross  of  his  Son, 
"  the  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world,"  and  we  shall  only  be  refined,  "  made  meet  for  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light." 


LECTURE  X. 


it.  3njjn  tlje  Skptiat. 


Numb.  xi.  29. 


"And  Moses  said  unto  him,  Enviest  thou  for  my  sake?  would  God  that  all  the  Lord's 
people  were  prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his  spirit  upon  them  1" 

AViien  the  great  lawgiver  Moses  found  the  management  of 
the  whole  congregation  of  Israel  a  burden  heavier  than  he 
could  bear,  he  was  directed  by  God  to  select  seventy  elders 
of  the  people,  and  to  bring  them  up  with  him  to  the 
Tabernacle ;  God  declaring  that  He  would  take  of  the 
Spirit  which  was  upon  Moses,  and  put  it  on  those  elders, 
that  they  might  divide  with  him  the  charge  of  public 
affairs.  Seventy  were  accordingly  selected ;  but  two  of 
them  remained,  probably  through  some  accident,  in  the 
camp,  whilst  the  others  set  themselves  round  about  the 
Tabernacle.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  down  according 
to  promise  ;  but  it  fell,  not  only  on  the  sixty  and  eight  who 
were  at  the  Tabernacle,  but  also  on  Eldad  and  Med  ad,  the 
two  who  had  remained  in  the  camp,  so  that  all  the  seventy 
simultaneously  prophesied. 

It  seems  to  have  been  counted  a  very  surprising  thing 
that  men  should  prophesy  in  the  camp ;  it  would  have  been 


188  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

nothing  had  Eldad  and  Medad  prophesied  in  the  Taber- 
nacle; but  such  occurrences  was  not  looked  for  else- 
where ;  and  therefore  we  read,  "  There  ran  a  young  man, 
and  told  Moses,  and  said,  Eldad  and  Medad  do  prophesy 
in  the  camp."  On  hearing  this,  Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun, 
the  servant  of  Moses,  immediately  exclaimed,  "My  lord 
Moses,  forbid  them."  And  what  feeling  was  foremost  in 
Joshua's  mind,  that  he  was  so  prompt  in  desiring  that 
Prophets  might  be  forbidden  to  prophesy  ?  Why,  he 
was  jealous  for  the  honour  of  Moses,  whom  he  counted 
supreme  in  the  camp,  whatever  he  might  be  in  the  Taber- 
nacle. That  men  should  prophesy  in  the  camp,  seemed 
therefore  to  Joshua  an  invasion  of  the  province  of  Moses. 
Hence  the  sudden  exclamation  of  Joshua — it  was  the  ex- 
clamation of  jealousy.  That  we  do  not  wrong  him  in 
putting  this  interpretation  on  his  words,  is  evident  from 
the  noble  answer  of  Moses,  an  answer  which  at  the  same 
time  exhibited  the  magnanimity  of  the  lawgiver,  and 
exposed  the  feelings  which  had  dictated  the  speech  of  his 
servant.  You  have  the  answer  in  our  text,  "  And  Moses 
said  unto  him,  Enviest  thou  for  my  sake  ?  would  God  that 
all  the  Lord's  people  were  Prophets,  and  that  the  Lord 
would  put  his  Spirit  upon  them."  Moses  had  no  share  in 
the  narrow  feeling  which  Joshua  had  displayed,  the  feeling 
of  envy  and  jealousy  ;  he  had  no  wish  to  engross  to  him- 
self the  distinctions  of  Heaven,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
would  have  greatly  rejoiced,  had  all  the  congregation  been 
richly  endowed  from  above,  though  he  himself  might  then 
have  ceased  to  be  conspicuous  in  Israel.  And  we  consider 
that  the  lawgiver,  when  thus  firmly  reproving  Joshua  foi 
envying  for  his  sake,  was  worthy  of  being  intensely  ad- 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  189 

mired,  and  earnestly  imitated;  for  that  in  thus  showing 
himself  above  all  littleness  of  mind,  content  to  be  nothing1, 
so  that  God  might  be  magnified,  and  his  cause  advanced, 
he  reached  a  point  of  moral  heroism,  ay,  loftier  than  that 
at  which  he  had  stood,  when,  in  the  exercise  of  super- 
human power,  he  bade  darkness  cover  the  land  of  the 
Egyptian,  or  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea  divide  before 
Israel. 

Now  we  are  not  about  to  expatiate  at  any  length  on 
the  magnanimity  which   was   thus   displayed    by   Moses. 
We  have  adduced  the  instance  in  order  to  show  you  how 
direct  a  parallel  may  be  found  in  the  history  of  the  fore- 
runner of  our  Lord,  John  the  Baptist,  to  whose  commem- 
oration the   Church   dedicates  this  day.     So  soon  as  our 
Saviour  had   entered  on  his  ministry,  the  great  office  of 
John  was  virtually  at  an  end.     It  appears  however  that  he 
still  continued  to  baptize,  and  thus  to  prepare  men  for  the 
disclosures   of  that   fuller   Revelation  with  which   Christ 
was  charged.     In  this  way,  the  ministry  of  our  Lord,  and 
that  of  his  forerunner,  were,  for  a  while,  discharged  to- 
gether, though,  inasmuch  as  Christ  worked  miracles,  and 
John   did   not,  there  were  quickly,   as  might  have  been 
expected,  more  attendants  on   the  preaching  of  the  Re- 
deemer, than  on  that  of  the  Baptist.     This  appears  to  have 
excited  evil  feelings  in  some  of  John's  disciples,  who,  like 
Joshua,  jealous   for  the  honour  of  their  master,  thought 
that  Jesus,  by  baptizing,  entrenched  on  his  province,  and 
unwarrantably  drew  away  his  followers.     You   see    how 
soon  the  spirit  of  partisanship  showed  itself  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church.     No  marvel  if  men  afterwards  said,  "  I  am  of 
Paul,  and  I  of  Apollos  f  no  marvel  if,  in  later  times,  men 


190  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

have  lost  sight  of  the  perpetual  ministry  of  the  great 
High  Priest,  in  their  zeal  to  exalt  some  favourite  pastor ; 
since  even  the  success  of  our  Lord  was  viewed  with  jeal- 
ousy by  the  disciples  of  John. 

You  read,  "  They  came  unto  John,  and  said  unto  him, 
Rabbi,  He  that  was  with  thee  beyond  Jordan,  to  whom 
thou  barest  witness,  behold,  the  same  baptizeth,  and  all 
men  come  to  Him.'1  There  is  an  implied  censure  upon 
John,  as  though,  by  bearing  witness  in  favour  of  Jesus,  he 
had  unnecessarily  exposed  himself  to  the  being  thought 
less  of  and  forsaken.  But  the  Baptist  himself  had  no 
share  in  these  unholy  and  mean  feelings.  He  immediately 
answered  and  said,  "  A  man  can  receive  nothing  except  it 
be  given  him  from  Heaven."  His  commission  had  pro- 
ceeded from  God:  its  nature,  extent,  and  duration,  had 
been  settled  by  Divine  appointment ;  was  it  then  for  him 
to  repine  that  nothing  higher  had  been  assigned  ?  was  it 
not  rather  for  him  to  be  thankful  that  so  much  had  been 
vouchsafed  ?  And  however  galling  it  might  be  to  his  fol- 
lowers thus  to  see  their  master  eclipsed,  to  John  himself 
it  was  matter  of  great  gladness,  that  He,  whom  he  had 
heralded,  was  drawing  all  men  towards  Him.  His  heart 
was  in  his  office ;  and  nothing  could  rejoice  him  more  than 
to  see  that  not  in  vain  had  he  come  as  "  the  voice  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness ;"  but  that  public  attention  had 
been  excited,  and  was  now  fastening  itself  where  he  wished 
it  to  centre.  "  He  that  hath  the  bride,"  he  goes  on  to  say, 
"  is  the  bridegroom."  It  was  not  for  me  to  draw  round 
me  a  Church :  I  am  not  He  who  is  to  bring  sinners  into  a 
close  and  endearing  relationship  to  Himself,  giving  Him- 
self for  them,  and  making  them  one,  through  mystic  union 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  191 

with  Himself.  "  But  the  friend  of  the  bridegroom,  which 
standeth  and  heareth  him,  rejoiceth  greatly  because  of  the 
bridegroom's  voice :  this  my  joy  therefore  is  fulfilled."  As 
though  he  had  said  to  his  envious  followers,  Think  not  that 
it  is  any  source  of  regret  to  me,  that  men  are  leaving  my 
discipleship,  and  flocking  to  that  of  Christ.  I  came  not  as 
the  bridegroom,  but  only  as  the  bridegroom's  friend,  to 
bid  the  bride  prepare  herself  for  the  coming  of  her  Lord. 
What  then  can  be  matter  of  joy  to  me,  if  not  to  hear  the 
voice  of  the  bridegroom,  proving  that  I  was  not  a  false 
messenger;  and  to  see  that  the  bride  is  ready  to  receive 
Him,  so  that  not  in  vain  did  I  give  notice  of  his  approach  ? 
"This  my  joy  therefore  is  fulfilled  ;"  the  tidings  which  you 
bring  me  satisfy  my  most  ardent  longings;  and  in  place 
of  being  depressed,  I  greatly  exult. 

And  then  the  Baptist  took  occasion  to  assure  his  dis- 
ciples, that  what  had  moved  their  jealousy  and  displeasure 
was  but  the  beginning,  the  first  display,  of  a  growing 
superiority  to  which  no  bounds  could  be  set.  They  were 
not  to  imagine  that  there  could  be  any  alteration  in  the 
relative  positions  of  Jesus  and  John,  or  that  John  would 
ever  take  that  priority,  which,  in  strange  forgetfulness  of 
his  own  sayings,  they  seemed  to  wish  him  to  possess ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  wished  them  distinctly  to  understand  that 
being  only  of  the  earth,  a  mere  man  like  one  of  them- 
selves, he  must  decline  in  importance,  and  at  length  shrink 
altogether  into  insignificance.  Whereas  Christ,  as  having 
come  from  above,  and  therefore  being  above  all,  possess- 
ing a  Divine  nature  as  well  as  a  human,  and  consequently 
liable  to  no  decay,  would  go  on  discharging  his  high  oflice, 
and  enlarging  his  sway,  accorcliug  to  the  prediction   of 


192  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

Isaiah,  "  Of  the  increase  of  his  government  and  peace 
there  shall  be  no  end,  upon  the  throne  of  David  and  upon 
his  Kingdom."  And  all  this,  this  gradual  fading  away  of 
himself,  and  this  continued  exaltation  of  Christ,  the  Bap- 
tist gathered  into  one  powerful  and  comprehensive  sen- 
tence, saying  of  our  blessed  Lord,  "  He  must  increase,  but 
I  must  decrease."  And  what  we  have  to  ask  of  you  is, 
whether  he,  who  could  thus  correct  the  jealousy  of  his  fol- 
lowers, who  could  show  a  perfect  indifference  in  regard  of 
himself  and  his  position,  so  that  his  Lord  and  Master  might 
but  be  honoured  and  exalted,  did  not  display  precisely  the 
same  nobleness  of  mind  as  is  indicated  in  our  text  ?  whether 
the  Baptist,  whom  the  Church  this  day  commemorates,  did 
not,  in  saying  of  Christ,  "  He  must  increase,  but  I  must 
decrease,"  rival  Moses,  the  great  type  of  the  Kedeemer 
Himself,  when  he  finely  exclaimed,  "Enviest  thou,  for 
my  sake?  would  God  that  all  the  Lord's  people  were 
Prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his  Spirit  upon 
them  ?" 

But  now  let  us  consider  more  distinctly  how  character 
was  here  put  to  the  proof,  or  in  what  it  was  that  either 
Moses  or  John  deserve  imitation.  The  truth  is,  that  it  is 
natural  to  all  of  us  to  envy  the  growing  reputation  of 
others,  and  to  be  jealous  when  it  seems  likely  to  trench 
on  our  own.  We  may  speak,  and  very  justly,  of  the  little- 
ness of  mind  which  is  displayed  by  the  envious  aud  jealous ; 
but  nevertheless  this  littleness  of  mind  belongs  naturally 
to  most,  if  not  all  of  us  ;  and  he  wins  a  fine  triumph,  or 
displays  great  command  over  himself,  who  can  be  content 
with  inferiority,  provided  the  cause  of  God  and  of  truth 
be    advanced.     This    is   the   precise  case   in    which   both 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  193 

Moses  and  John  showed  greatness  of  soul;  and  though  it 
be  the  case  in  which  we  have  most  reason  to  look  for  a 
forgetful ness  of  self,  experience  shows  that  the  expectation 
is  but  too  often  disappointed.  In  other  cases,  we  can 
hardly  wonder  that  nun  should  be  mortified  by  the  supe- 
riority of  their  rivals,  and  that  they  should  look  with 
dislike  and  bitterness  upon  those  who  eclipse  them  in  the 
respects  in  which  they  most  wish  to  shine.  The  courtier 
who  has  been  long  toiling  to  stand  high  in  the  favour  of 
his  sovereign,  and  who  perceives  thai  a  younger  candidate, 
who  lias  but  ju^t  entered  the  field,  is  fast  outstripping 
him,  so  that  the  probability  is,  that  he  will  soon  be  widely 
distanced, — we  cannot  marvel  if  he  regard  the  youthful 
competitor  with  irritated  feelings,  in  place  of  generously 
rejoicing  in  his  rapid  success.  It  would  be  a  very  fine 
instance  of  magnanimity,  if  this  courtier  were  to  cede 
gracefully  the  place  to  his  rival,  and  to  offer  him,  with 
marks  of  sincerity  which  could  not  be  mistaken,  his  con1 
gratulations  on  the  having  passed  him  in  the  race.  But 
we  hardly  look  for  such  magnanimity — the  occasion,  if  we 
may  venture  to  say  so,  scarcely  warrants  it — the  whole 
business  is  of  so  worldly,  so  ignoble  a  character,  that  the 
high  principles  of  religion  can  scarcely  be  supposed  brought 
into  exercise  ;  and  yet  the  loftiness  of  spirit  is  such  as  these 
principles  alone  can  be  considered  adequate  to  produce  or 
sustain. 

The  case,  however,  is  widely  different  when  it  is  in  the 
service  of  God,  and  not  of  an  earthly  king,  that  the  two 
men  engage.  Here,  by  the  very  nature  of  the  service,  the 
grand  thing  aimed  at  is  the  glory  of  God,  and  not  personal 

distinction    or   aggrandizement ;    and   there   is   therefore 
13 


194  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect 

ground  for  expecting,  that  if  this  glory  be  promoted,  there 
will  be  gladness  of  heart  in  all  Christians,  whoever  the 
agent  who  has  been  specially  honoured.  But,  alas  for  the 
infirmity  of  human  nature,  there  is  no  room  for  question- 
ing that  even  Christians  can  be  jealous  of  each  other,  and 
feel  it  a  sore  trial  when  they  are  distanced  and  eclipsed 
in  being  instrumental  in  promoting  Christianity.  I  can 
imagine  to  myself  a  missionary  settlement,  where  a  devoted 
servant  of  God  has  striven  for  many  years  with  idolatry, 
but  has  made  but  little  way  in  winning  Heathens  to  the 
faith.  Here  and  there  he  can  point  to  a  convert  from 
superstition ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  he  seems  to  have 
laboured  in  vain ;  and  he  is  often  forced  to  exclaim  with 
the  Prophet,  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report,  and  to  whom 
hath  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been  revealed  V]  And  then 
there  arrives  in  that  missionary  settlement  another  and  a 
younger  preacher  of  truth  ;  and  God  has  endowed  him 
with  higher  powers,  and  honours  him  with  greater  success ; 
so  that  there  is  a  rapid  demolition  of  the  whole  system  of 
Heathenism,  savages  renouncing  by  hordes  ancestral  super- 
stition, forming  themselves  into  peaceful  communities,  and 
embracing  with  delight  the  religion  of  Christ.  Now  it  is 
very  easy  to  say  that  the  elder  missionary  ought  to  feel 
nothing  but  exultation  and  thankfulness,  as  he  marks  the 
glorious  results  which  follow  the  labours  of  the  younger. 
The  object  which  he  had  nearest  his  heart,  was  the  conver- 
sion of  Pagans ;  and  what  shall  he  do  but  rejoice  in  the 
accomplishment  of  this  object,  though  effected  through  the 
instrumentality  of  another  ?  And  we  do  not  say  that  the 
elder  missionary  would  have  other  feelings  than  those  which 
he  is  thus  bound,  by  his  own  profession,  to  entertain.     But, 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  195 

nevertheless,  there  will  have  been  a  great  deal  to  try  that 
missionary:  and  we  can  hardly  doubt,  forasmuch  as  his 
being  a  Christian  will  not  have  destroyed  his  being  a  man, 
that  his  breast  must  have  been  the  scene  of  no  inconsider- 
able struggle,  and  that  there  must  have  been  earnest  prayer 
and  a  vehement  resistance  to  natural  feelings,  ere  he  could 
bring  himself  to  survey  with  complacency  the  distinguished 
honour  which  God  put  on  another. 

We  are  far  enough  from  regarding  it  as  a  matter  of 
course,  that  the  veteran  in  the  missionary  work  would  feel 
contented  and  pleased  at  seeing  that  work,  which  had  gone 
on  slowly  with  himself,  suddenly  progressing  with  amazing 
rapidity  when  undertaken  by  a  younger  labourer, — on  the 
contrary,  arguing  from  the  known  tendencies  of  our  nature, 
we  suppose  that  he  must  have  had  a  hard  battle  with  him- 
self, before  he  could  really  rejoice  in  the  sudden  advance 
of  Christianity ;  and  we  should  regard  him,  as  having  won, 
through  the  assistance  of  Divine  grace,  a  noble  victory  over 
some  of  the  strongest  cravings  of  the  heart,  when  he  frank- 
ly bade  the  stripling  God  speed,  and  rejoiced  as  he  saw 
the  idols  falling  prostrate  before  him. 

And  here  we  have  very  nearly  the  case  of  Moses  and 
John,  though  we  will  confine  ourselves  to  that  of  John,  as 
brought  before  us  by  the  services  of  the  day.  You  are  to 
remember  that  John  had  filled  a  most  distinguished  place 
as  the  forerunner  of  Christ.  Prophets  had  spoken  of  him 
long  ages  back;  an  angel  had  announced  his  birth;  and 
miracle,  suspended  for  centuries,  had  again  been  wrought 
to  fix  attention  on  the  child.  And  when  he  had  grown  up, 
and  entered  on  his  ministry,  the  whole  nation  of  the  Jews 
was  agitated  by  his  preaching,  so  that  multitudes  of  every 


196  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

class  flocked  to  him  in  the  wilderness,  "  and  were  baptized, 
of  him  in  Jordan,  confessing  their  sins."  Was  it  nothing 
to  John,  regarded  as  a  man  of  like  passions  with  ourselves, 
to  become  of  no  importance,  after  having  occupied  so  em- 
inent a  station  ?  or  would  it  have  cost  one  of  us  no  great 
effort,  if  called  to  such  a  post  as  had  been  assigned  to  the 
Baptist,  to  shrink  into  comparative  privacy,  and  leave  the 
scene  clear  for  one  mightier  than  himself?  There  is  no 
better  way  of  estimating  a  display  of  magnanimity  than 
by  making  the  circumstances  as  much  as  possible  our  own, 
and  then  examining  what  effort  it  would  require  to  imitate 
the  conduct  which  we  cannot  but  admire.  And  if  we  have 
not  overstated  the  case  of  the  missionary,  we  may  safely 
declare  that  any  one  of  ourselves  would  find  few  trials 
harder  than  that  of  seeing  himself  wholly  eclipsed  ;  and 
that  he  might  bring  himself  with  less  difficulty  to  almost 
any  duty,  rather  than  to  that  of  rejoicing  that  another 
was  made  useful  whilst  he  was  passed  by. 

Never  then,  as  we  said  of  Moses,  never  was  the  Baptist 
more  glorious,  never  did  he  more  exhibit  greatness  of  soul, 
than  when  he  not  only  disclaimed  all  share  in  the  petty 
jealousy  shown  by  his  followers,  but  proved  that  he 
exulted  in  being  nothing  in  comparison  of  Christ.  In  the 
absence  of  all  feeling  of  rivalry  or  disappointment ;  in  the 
thorough  willingness  to  be  just  what  God  pleased,  eminent 
or  forgotten,  according  as  his  purposes  might  require ;  in 
the  honest  joy  that  One  greater  than  himself  had  assumed 
the  office  of  a  teacher  of  the  people, — in  these  have  we 
finer  proof  than  in  all  the  rest  of  his  history,  that  the 
Baptist  had  subdued  himself,  and  thus  gained  the  hardest, 
as  well  as  the  most  important,  of  all  moral  victories.    And 


X.l  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  197 

I  can  admire  John  the  Baptist,  as  he  lives  a  severe  life  in 
the  desert,  uhis  raiment  of  camel's  hair,  and  a  leathern 
girdle  about  his  loins,1'  mortifying  the  flesh,  and  thus  ex- 
hibiting to  others  that  rigid  self-denial  which  he  enjoined 
as  a  preacher  of  repentance.  I  can  admire  him,  as  he 
boldly  reproves  vice  in  the  great,  daring  even  the  terrors 
of  a  prison,  rather  than  leave  unrebuked  the  crimes  of  the 
profligate  Herod.  But,  oh !  never  docs  he  appear  to  me 
so  transceudently  great,  never  so  free  from  the  dross  of 
human  passion  and  infirmity,  as  when  I  see  him  sur- 
rounded by  his  followers,  who  have  come,  with  jealous  and 
angry  feelings,  to  tell  him  how  the  world  was  flocking 
after  Jesus,  and  hear  him  exclaiming,  in  a  fine  burst  of 
pleasure  and  of  gratitude,  :-  lie  must  increase,  but  I  must 
decrease;"  thus  emulating  the  great  lawgiver  of  Israel, 
who  was  not  so  noble,  when  he  showed  mastery  over  the 
proud  enemies  of  his  people,  as  when  he  showed  mastery 
over  himself,  Baying  to  Joshua,  jealous  that  others  should 
share  his  great  gifts,  "Enviot.  thou  for  my  sake?  would 
God  that  all  the  Lord's  people  were  Prophets,  and  that 
the  Lord  would  put  his  Spirit  upon  them." 

But  now  having  thus  shown  you  how  admirable  was 
the  Baptist  in  thus  copying  the  lawgiver  Moses,  wre  would 
speak  on  the  peculiar  appropriateness  of  his  being,  though 
the  forerunner  of  Christ,  compared  with  Moses,  inasmuch 
as  John  belonged  strictly  neither  to  the  legal  nor  the 
Christian  dispensation,  but  stood  between  the  two.  The 
time  was  not  come  for  the  full  manifestation  of  God's 
purpose  of  mercy;  and  therefore,  though  the  Baptist 
might  urge  to  the  abandoning  vice,  and  the  following 
after   righteousness,   he   could    not    wield    those    weapons 


198  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

which  are  "  mighty  through  God  to  the  casting  down  of 
strong-holds :"  he  could  not  animate  "by  the  promises  of  the 
Gospel,  nor  show,  by  pointing  to  the  cross,  how  all  the 
terrors  of  Hell  could  be  poured  upon  sin,  whilst  all  the 
glories  of  Heaven  were  opened  to  sinners.  And  probably 
this  peculiarity  of  his  position,  as  standing  between  Moses 
and  Christ,  may  have  had  to  do  with  the  words  which  he 
employed,  when  so  beautifully  imitating  the  one,  and  doing 
homage  to  the  other.  He  well  knew  that  he  had  not 
taught  the  great  truths  which  were  to  be  revealed  under 
the  new  dispensation.  He  well  knew  that  his  baptism 
had  been  but  introductory ;  that  the  mortification  of  the 
flesh,  and  the  performance  of  moral  duties  to  which  he 
had  urged,  could  not  secure  men  from  the  wrath  de- 
nounced against  their  sins ;  and  that,  consequently,  unless 
he  were  to  be  followed  by  one  charged  with  a  clearer 
Revelation  of  mercy,  his  mission  would  be  fruitless,  and 
leave  the  world  where  it  found  it,  under  sentence  of  death. 
And  therefore  was  it  far  enough  from  his  wish,  that  he 
should  not  be  displaced,  and  surpassed  in  the  office  of  a 
teacher  from  God.  It  would  have  been  no  pleasure  to 
him  to  know,  that  he  had  communicated  all  the  intelli- 
gence which  Goil  intended  to  give,  in  regard  of  his  pur- 
poses towards  our  fallen  race  ;  and  that  He,  whom  he  had 
been  sent  to  announce,  would  teach  no  higher  lessons,  and 
unfold  no  better  hopes.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  his  glad- 
ness to  feel  that  his  own  ministrations  were  but  as  the 
twilight  which  is  lost  in  the  full  blaze  of  day,  and  that, 
when  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  to  whom  he  had  served  as 
the  morning  star,  should  pour  his  rich  beams  on  the  world, 
he  himself  must    decline,   and  at  length    vanish   out   of 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  199 

sight.  Could  it  then  have  been  with  any  emotion  of 
regret  that  he  received  the  intelligence  brought  him  by 
his  disciples,  intelligence  that  Jesus  was  gathering  multi- 
tudes around  Him,  amazing  them  bj  his  miracles,  and  not 
less  by  his  doctrines?  It  was  only  that  for  which  he  had 
longed,  that  which  was  required  to  prove  his  own  com- 
mission Divine,  and  to  make  it  of  any  worth.  What,  he 
seems  to  say  to  his  followers,  are  ye  indeed  envious  for 
my  sake?  would  ye  have  had  me  unsurpassed  in  the  office 
of  a  teacher  ?  Think  ye  that  the  baptism  with  which  I 
have  baptized,  and  the  repentance  which  I  have  preached, 
are  sufficient  for  the  moral  wants  of  a  world  lying  in 
wickedness?  The  austerities  which,  by  my  practice,  I 
have  recommended,  the  duties  which,  by  my  teaching,  I 
have  inculcated — think  ye  that  these  alone  will  avert 
wrath,  and  save  a  soul  from  death  ?  No,  these  must 
depart:  these,  like  the  shadows  and  ceremonies  of  the 
law,  must  be  swept  away,  as  preparatory  indeed,  and  quite 
important  in  their  place,  but,  nevertheless,  insufficient,  and 
therefore  only  temporary.  My  theological  system  lias 
been  imperfect :  it  has  wanted  explicitness  on  the  points 
most  important  to  the  weak  and  the  sinful;  and  what  then 
can  await  it  but  the  being  forgotten  and  set  aside,  when 
God  shall  speak  to  the  world  by  the  mouth  of  his  Son  ? 

I  behold — thus  it  is  St.  John  seems  to  speak — the 
progress  of  the  Gospel.  I  mark,  with  prophetic  eye,  the 
rolling  away  of  all  that  has  been  preliminary :  the  sacri- 
ficial rites  of  the  Temple  are  abolished :  the  penance  and 
the  fasting,  these  are  pronounced  ineffectual :  and  every 
doctrine  gives  place  to  that  of  which  Christ  Jesus  shall  be 
at  once  the  teacher  and  the  theme.     I  behold  this  doctrine 


200  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

abolishing  the  idols.  I  behold  it  purifying  the  heart,  till, 
at  length,  all  other  systems  are  destroyed,  and  the  globe, 
in  its  every  department,  worships  the  one  God,  through 
the  "  one  Mediator  between  God  and  man."  Yes,  this  is 
the  vision  which  passes  before  me,  as  I  direct  my  gaze  to 
future  times,  the  vision  of  all  that  has  been  introductory 
in  the  Divine  dealings  with  man  shrinking  from  the  scene, 
that  the  message  of  reconciliation,  which  Christ  will  pub- 
lish, may  pass  throughout  the  world,  every  where  opposing 
falsehood,  and  every  where  at  length  triumphant.  Proph- 
ets are  silent ;  for  "  the  spirit  of  prophecy  is  the  testi- 
mony of  Jesus ;"  and,  Jesus  having  come,  there  is  no  need 
of  further  witness.  Types  are  abolished ;  they  did  but 
prefigure  Christ;  and  what  purpose  can  they  answer,  when 
He,  whom  they  represented,  hath  shown  Himself  to  the 
world  ?  And  whilst  the  law  and  the  Prophets  thus  resign 
to  Christ  the  office  of  teacher,  whilst  Moses  and  Elias  bow 
before  Him,  confessing  their  part  fulfilled,  and  rejoicing 
that  a  greater  hath  descended  to  reveal  the  invisible  God 
— am  I  to  repine  that  my  commission  must  terminate  ?  am 
I  to  think  it  matter  of  complaint  that  the  forerunner,  with 
his  imperfect  theology,  must  give  place  to  the  Redeemer, 
with  his  full,  and  glorious,  and  overwhleming  tidings  ? 

Yes,  into  such  shape  as  this  may  we  throw  the  Baptist's 
answer  to  his  envious  disciples.  Moses,  far  removed  from 
the  promised  Messiah,  could  only  breathe  a  wish  for  a 
general  outpouring  of  God's  Spirit  on  the  Church.  But 
John,  though  only  the  forerunner  of  the  Christ,  caught 
clearer  views  of  the  Gospel  dispensation ;  he,  therefore, 
could  speak  triumphantly  of  the  progress  of  Christianity, 
as  sweeping  away  all  former  dispensations,  and  could  re- 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  201 

press  envy  by  the  noble  acknowledgment,  "  He  must  in- 
crease, but  I  must  decrease,"  whilst  Moses  could  only 
breathe  the  earnest  wish,  "Would  God  that  all  the  Lord's 
people  were  Prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his 
Spirit  upon  them.'' 

But  by  setting  apart  this  day  for  the  commemoration 
of  John  the  Baptist,  the  Church  designs  to  excite  us  to 
imitation  of  one  so  illustrious  in  office,  and  so  admirable  in 
character.  Let  us  take  then  his  acknowledgment  as  to 
Christ,  "  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease,"  and  see 
whether  it  ought  not  to  express  our  own  feelings,  if  we  be 
firm  and  sincere  in  the  Christian  religion.  It  can  scarcely 
be  needful  for  us  to  tell  you — and  yet  so  prone  are  men  to 
forget  elementary  truth,  that  you  may  require  to  be  re- 
minded— that  the  Gospel  is  a  system  constructed  on  pur- 
pose to  abase  the  sinner,  and  exalt  the  Saviour.  The  sys- 
tem may  be  declared  based  upon  the  truth,  that  we  are  not 
sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think  or  do  any  thing  as  of  our- 
selves; but  that  there  have  been  fastened  upon  us,  as  the 
entailments  of  our  first  parents'  sin,  a  moral  helplessness, 
and  a  moral  perversity,  which  must  prevent  our  doing 
aught  which  can  be  accej)table  to  God,  and  ensure  our 
doing  much  by  which  He  will  be  sorely  displeased. 

And  until  a  man  is  persuaded  of  this,  the  foundation 
truth,  as  we  may  call  it,  of  Christianity,  there  is  no  hope 
of  bringing  him  to  close  thankfully  with  the  proffers  of  the 
Gospel :  he  will  see  nothing  of  the  beauty,  and  fed  noth- 
ing of  the  appropriateness  of  those  proffers  :  like  remedies 
offered  to  a  man  who  is  not  conscious  of  sickness,  they  will 
appear  of  little  worth,  just  because  they  do  not  meet  any 
felt  want  or  exigence.     Hence  it  is,  that,  in  all  our  striv- 


202  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

ings  with  the  conscience,  in  all  our  endeavours  to  win  over 
the  unconverted,  whether  we  find  them  on  sick  beds,  or  in 
the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house,  our  great  effort  is  given  to 
the  inculcating  the  doctrine  of  human  disability ;  for  if 
God  enables  us  to  bring  a  man  to  feel  that  he  can  do 
nothing  for  himself,  he  wall  be  just  in  the  attitude  to  hear 
with  eagerness,  and  to  receive  with  thankfulness,  tidings 
of  a  Mediator  wmo  has  clone  every  thing  for  him.  And 
thus  it  is  virtually  our  endeavour  to  gain  a  cordial  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  Baptist's  confession :  or  rather,  this 
confession  involves  a  principle  for  which  we  strive,  at  the 
very  outset,  to  procure  admission  into  the  theology  of  the 
man,  wrhom  we  long  to  see  walking  in  a  heavenward  path. 
We  want  to  bring  him  to  a  consciousness,  that  he  must 
think  little  of  himself,  and  highly  of  Christ ;  and  we 
should  know  that  he  had  indeed  passed  the  strait  gate, 
and  entered  on  the  narrow  path,  if  there  were  even  an  in- 
cipient persuasion  in  his  mind,  that  Christ  must  increase, 
and  that  he  must  decrease. 

Let  each  of  you,  who  may  be  counting  himself  a  con- 
verted man,  bring  his  case  to  this  criterion :  let  him  ex- 
amine, with  all  diligence  and  all  faithfulness,  whether  it 
is  his  experience,  to  seem  less  and  less  in  his  owne  yes, 
and  to  feel  more  and  more  the  sufficiency  of  the  Saviour. 
It  is  appointed  by  God ;  nay,  we  might  say,  it  results  from 
the  very  nature  of  the  case — that  the  glories  of  Christ  are 
discerned  in  the  same  degree  as  our  own  vileness  and  de- 
pravity. The  more  we  feel  how  undeserving,  how  helpless 
we  are,  the  more  shall  we  admire  the  exceeding  love  of 
God,  and  cry  out,  in  amazement  as  well  as  gratitude, 
"  What  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  son 


x0  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  203 

of  man  that  thou  visitest  hiui  ?"     The  more  we  perceive 
the  hatefulness  of  sin,  and  the  immenseness  of  the  wrath 
which  it  provokes,  the  greater  will  be  our  sense  of  the 
virtues  of  Christ's  death,  through  which  pardon  has  been 
placed  within  reach.     In  proportion  as  we  feel  how  utterly 
unable  we  are  to  keep  the  law  in  a  solitary  tittle  we  shall 
look  with  awe  and  veneration  on  one  "  found  in  fashion  as 
a  man,"  "  who  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in  his 
mouth."     The  greater  our  consciousness  of  a  defilement, 
which  must  unfit  us  for  those  pure  mansions  where  God 
displays  his  brightness,  the  more  intense  will  be  our  esti- 
mate of  those  expiatory  and  sanctifying  influences,  through 
which  we  can  be  presented  without  spot  or  wrinkle,  or 
any  such  thing.     Who  knows  the  worth  of  the  Mediator, 
like  he  who  feels,  in  every  recess  of  his  soul,  that  he  has 
destroyed  himself,  thrown  himself  to  an  immeasurable  dis- 
tance from  God  and  from  happiness,  and  that  there  he 
must  have  eternally  remained,  had  no  Intercessor  come  to 
"  seek  and  save  that  which  was  lost  ?" 

In  short,  to  whom  will  Christ  Jesus  be  so  nearly  "  all  in 
all,"  as  to  the  man  who  is  most  nearly  emptied  of  self? 
"  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease"— it  is  what  every 
true  Christian  will  desire  to  be  able  to  say,  with  more  and 
more  of  the  gladness  and  confidence  of  the  Baptist,  "  I 
must  decrease" — I  must  be  more  humbled  under  a  sense 
of  sin  ;  I  must  have  yet  lower  thoughts  of  my  own  moral 
powers,  and  deeper  views  of  my  vileness  as  an  alien  from 
God.  But  "  He  must  increase."  The  fulness  which  there 
is  in  Christ  must  be  more  and  more  perceived :  the  suffi- 
ciency of  his  sacrifice,  the  cleansing  power  of  his  blood, 
the  prevalence  of  his  intercession,  these  must  be  increas- 


204  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  [Lect. 

ingly  recognised  and  confided  in  :  though  He  cannot  be- 
come greater  in  Himself,  He  must  become  greater  in  my 
esteem;  and  with  a  warmer  love,  and  a  stronger  faith, 
must  I  daily  proclaim  Him  "  Chief  among  ten  thousand, 
and  altogether  lovely." 

And  does  there  yet  remain  no  other  sense  in  which  the 
Baptist's  words  may  be  applied  ?  are  there  no  tongues  but 
our  own  on  which  they  are  appropriate  ?  The  words  were 
prophetic :  they  echoed,  as  we  before  said,  the  prediction 
of  Isaiah,  "  Of  the  increase  of  his  government  there  shall 
be  no  end."  And  the  whole  of  this  creation  seems  to  us 
to  catch  the  sentiment,  and  to  be  vocal  with  its  utterance. 
The  sun,  coming  forth  as  a  bridegroom  from  his  chamber, 
proclaims,  "  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease" — these 
Heavens  are  to  be  rolled  up  as  a  scroll ;  and  the  New  Je- 
rusalem is  to  have  no  need  of  the  sun,  "  for  the  glory  of 
God  will  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  will  be  the  light  there- 
of." Moon  and  stars  take  up  the  proclamation :  there  is  to 
be  no  night  in  that  city ;  and  therefore  must  they  wholly 
vanish,  quenched  in  the  effulgence  of  Him  who  will  for 
ever  scatter  all  darkness.  And  what  sound  is  that  which 
comes  rolling  as  from  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
voices  ?  It  is  the  utterance  of  "  every  creature  which  is  in 
Heaven,  and  on  the  earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such 
as  are  in  the  sea,"  pronouncing,  "  "Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that 
was  slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  and  honour,  and  glory,  and  blessing."  Then  all 
orders  of  intelligence,  Angel  and  Archangel,  principality 
and  power,  are  bowing  before  the  Mediator,  extolling  Him 
whilst  they  abase  themselves ;  and  what  then  is  that 
mighty  chorus  which  John  the  Evangelist  heard,  but  the 


X.]  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  205 

echo  of  those  words  which  John  the  Baptist  uttered,  "  He 
must  increase,  but  we  must  decrease  ?" 

Yes,  King  of  kings,  "  thou  must  reign,  until  thou  hast 
put  all  enemies  under  thy  feet."  Every  other  dominion  is 
to  decline,  that  the  vision,  vouchsafed  to  Daniel,  may  be 
accomplished,  and  thy  dominion  be  established  as  an  ever- 
lasting dominion,  thy  royalty  be  extended  over  all  the 
creatures  of  God.  Here  indeed  we  are  launched  on  an 
ocean  without  a  shore.  There  may  be,  throughout  eternity, 
fresh  manifestations  of  Deity;  and  if  every  manifestation 
add,  as  it  must,  to  the  dignity  and  lustre  of  Him,  "  in  whom 
dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily,"  we  can 
set  no  bounds  to  the  increase  of  Christ.  And  though  we 
ourselves  shall  be  ever  on  the  advance,  reaching  success- 
ively greater  heights  in  knowledge  and  in  happiness,  yet 
may  our  Redeemer  bo  exceed  every  creature  in  the  growth 
in  all  that  is  glorious,  that  every  creature,  when  brought 
into  comparison  with  Him,  shall  seem  to  diminish,  rather 
than  expand.  Still  therefore  may  it  be,  that,  in  the  midst 
of  the  unimagined  progress  or  inarch  of  eternity,  we  shall 
have  to  speak  of  ourselves  as  decreasing,  and  of  Christ 
alone  as  increasing.  He  will  be  continually  separated  from 
us  by  such  broader  and  broader  districts  of  magnificence, 
notwithstanding  our  own  growing  majesties,  that  we  shall 
continually  think  less  and  less  of  ourselves,  and  more  and 
more  of  Him.  To  extol  Him  will  still  be  duty  :  but  that 
duty  will  be  happiness;  though  we  must  die,  and  enter  into 
possession  of  the  heavenly  inheritance,  before  we  can  even 
conjecture  with  what  emotions,  contemplating  how  Christ 
outshines  every  creature,  so  that  the  most  glorious  veils  his 
face,  we  shall  seize  the  golden  harps,  and  sweep  them  to  the 


206  ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 

strain,  "  He  must  increase,  but  we  must  decrease."  The 
Spirit  of  God  can  alone  fit  us  for  this  blessedness — with 
Moses,  then,  let  us  pray  on  behalf  of  others  and  ourselves, 
"Would  God  that  all  the  Lord's  people  were  Prophets, 
and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his  Spirit  upon  them !" 


LECTURE  XL 


•Mining  tip  tata  of  tjje  profijrck 


Luke  xi.  47,  48. 

"  Woe  unto  you  1  for  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  Prophets,  and  your  fathers  killed 
them.  Truly  ye  bear  witness  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of  your  fathers;  for  they 
indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build  their  sepulchres." 

Axd  wherefore  this  woe  ?  Was  it  not  rather  commend- 
able than  blameworthy,  that  the  Jews  showed  reverence 
for  the  prophets  whom  their  fathers  had  slain  ?  They 
seemed  hereby  but  to  testify  that  their  fathers  had  done 
wrong,  that  the  Prophets  were  God's  messengers,  who 
ought  to  have  been  differently  received — what  could  there 
be  to  condemn  in  this  ?  Our  fathers  killed  Ridley,  and 
Hooper,  and  Latimer,  noble  men,  who  were  contending  for 
the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints.  We  erect  a  martyrs' 
memorial :  we  build  the  sepulchres  for  these  slain  witnesses 
for  truth :  and  is  it  necessarily  a  woe  which  we  hereby 
incur  ?  God  forbid :  we  reproach  indeed  our  fathers,  we 
publish  their  guilt,  when  we  rear  a  stately  pile  in  honour 
of  these  martyred  men  :  but  if  we  love  and  reverence  the 
cause  for  which  the  blood  was  shed,  we  are  doing,  we  may 
believe,  what  is  acceptable  to  God. 


208  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

But  the  Jews,  whilst  honouring  the  Prophets,  and  re- 
proaching their  fathers,  were  flattering  themselves  that 
they  could  never  have  done  the  like :  they  said,  as  we 
learn  from  St.  Matthew,  "  If  we  had  been  in  the  days  of 
our  fathers,  we  would  not  have  been  partakers  with  them 
in  the  blood  of  the  Prophets  !"  Would  they  not  indeed  ? 
were  they  not  at  the  very  moment  thirsting  for  the  blood 
of  Christ,  and  contriving  his  destruction  ?  Alas  for  the 
fatal  facility  with  which  those  who  are  quick  in  discerning 
the  faults  of  others,  can  blind  themselves  to  their  own !  It 
is  amongst  the  most  memorable  of  the  sayings  of  our  Lord, 
"  Why  beholdest  thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's 
eye,  but  considerest  not  the  beam  that  is  in  thine  own  eye  ?" 
The  improving  our  own  character,  and  therefore  the  cor- 
recting our  own  faults,  should  evidently  be  our  chief 
purpose  or  object ;  and  the  knowledge  that  we  may  be 
keen-sighted  as  to  the  errors  of  others,  and,  all  the  while, 
blind  to  our  own,  should  produce  circumspection  and 
inquisitiveness  in  respect  of  ourselves,  making  us  cautious 
as  to  the  condemning  a  neighbour,  or  concluding  that  we 
should  act  differently  under  similar  circumstances. 

Here  was  the  fault  of  the  Jews.  They  were  the  descend- 
ants of  men  who  had  persecuted  and  slain  the  Prophets 
of  God.  But  they  themselves  were  ready  to  do  the  very 
same  :  they  were  plotting  the  death  of  the  greatest  Proph- 
et, the  greatest  in  all  the  signs  or  evidences  of  a  Prophet, 
that  had  ever  arisen  in  their  land.  And,  nevertheless, 
they  could  see  well  enough  how  wrong  their  fathers  had 
been,  and  could  join  in  showing  honour  to  the  righteous 
persons  whom  they  had  treated  so  ill :  but  "it  does  not  seem 
to  have  struck  them,  that  they  were  closely  treading  in 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  209 

their  steps,  and  were  about  to  imitate,  or  rather,  far  sur- 
pass, what  they  so  loudly  condemned.  They  reared  the 
gorgeous  monument,  and  ostentatiously  adorned  the  graves 
of  those  who  had  lost  their  lives  in  the  cause  of  God  and 
of  truth — thus  publicly  evidencing  their  sense  of  the 
innocence  of  the  martyrs,  and  of  the  guiltiness  of  those 
who  had  put  them  to  death.  Thus  far  there  might  have 
been  sincerity ;  their  fathers  had  done  foully  ;  and  though 
it  might  not  well  become  children  to  expose  and  upbraid 
the  faults  of  their  ancestors,  the  nagitiousness  was  so  great 
that  much  might  have  been  forgiven  to  a  just  and  right- 
eous indignation.  But  they  went  on  to  compare  them- 
selves with  their  fathers,  and  to  argue  from  the  comparison, 
that,  had  it  been  in  their  days  that  the  Prophets  had  arisen, 
they  would  never  have  been  treated  in  so  injurious  a 
manner.  Alas  for  their  ignorance  of  themselves  !  they 
were  plotting  to  put  a  Prophet  to  death,  whilst  building 
the  tombs  of  those  Prophets  whom  their  fathers  had  slain. 
But  is  there  no  lesson  here  for  ourselves  ?  We,  on  our 
part,  are  ready  enough  to  condemn  the  Jews,  wondering 
at  their  blindness,  and  execrating  their  sin :  but  may  we 
not,  like  the  Jews,  be  doing  the  very  thing  which  we 
denounce,  so  that,  at  one  and  the  same  moment,  we  both 
copy  and  condemn  ?  Let  us  not  too  hastily  conclude  that 
there  may  be  no  parallel  amongst  ourselves  to  that  which 
we  are  so  ready  to  wonder  at  and  reprove :  human  nature 
is  always  the  same ;  and  if  the  manifestations  of  its  cor- 
ruption be  somewhat  different  at  different  times,  you  have 
only  to  look  a  little  below  the  surface,  and  you  may  find 
the  difference  wholly  superficial.    Come  then  with  us,  that 

we  may  search  and  see  whether  there  be  nothing  in  our 
14 


210  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

own  day  of  execrating  in  others  the  very  sin  which  may 
be  charged  on  ourselves ;  whether,  in  short,  whilst  we  are 
the  bitter  enemies  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  we  may  not, 
like  the  Jews,  be  nattering  ourselves  that  we  could  never 
have  taken  part  in  the  cruel  persecutions  of  earlier  days, 
and  thus  giving  cause  for  the  reproachful  saying,  "  Truly 
ye  bear  witness  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of  your  fathers ; 
for  they  indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build  their  sepulchres." 

Now,  let  us  first  fix  attention  on  the  singular  fact,  that 
what  is  admired  in  the  dead,  may  be  execrated  in  the 
living.  There  was  no  essential  difference  between  the 
preaching  of  Christ,  which  excited  the  fierce  anger  of  the 
Jews,  and  that  of  the  Prophets  which  had  similarly  dis- 
pleased and  irritated  their  fathers.  In  both  cases  the 
preaching  was  that  of  the  necessity  of  repentance,  and  of 
the  certainty  of  vengeance,  if  not  averted  through  the 
forsaking  of  sin.  And  the  Jews,  in  the  time  of  our  Lord, 
could  profess  a  high  admiration  of  the  preachers  who  had 
pressed  these  truths  on  their  fathers,  though,  all  the  while, 
they  were  full  of  indignation  against  those  who  laboured  to 
press  them  on  themselves.  They  reared  the  stately  monu- 
ment in  honour  of  intrepid  men,  who  had  published,  in  a 
former  age,  the  very  message  and  doctrine  which  they 
were  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  silence  in  their  own.  And 
thus  did  they  honour  the  memory  of  the  dead  for  the  very 
thing  which  made  them  hate  and  persecute  the  living — as 
though  God  compelled  justice  to  be  done  to  the  righteous, 
and  wrung  from  their  adversaries  a  testimony  in  their 
favour. 

The  same  takes  place  in  our  own  day  and  generation. 
Call   to  mind  the  names  of  martyrs,  and  confessors,  and 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  211 

preachers,  who,  whilst  they  •  lived,  drew  on  themselves 
almost  universal  detestation,  by  their  zeal  in  the  publica- 
tion of  truth,  and  the  exposure  of  error.  Gather  opinions 
as  to  these  martyrs,  confessors,  and  preachers,  and  you  will 
obtain  well  nigh  an  unqualified  verdict,  pronouncing  them 
amongst  the  worthiest  of  men,  ornaments  to  their  own  age, 
and  examples  to  every  succeeding.  Open  a  subscription 
for  some  testimonial  to  their  honour ;  and  money  will  flow 
in  for  the  building  their  tombs  and  garnishing  their  sepul- 
chres, just  as  though  there  were  a  general  anxiety  to  evince 
a  sense  of  their  worth,  and  of  the  injustice  of  their  con- 
temporaries. But  now  go  on  to  examine  what  the  princi- 
ples were  which  these  dead  worthies  upheld,  what  the 
doctrines  which  they  published,  what  the  practices  which 
they  denounced.  And  do  you  think  you  will  find  that 
these  principles  are  in  general  repute,  these  doctrines  gen- 
erally esteemed,  these  practices  generally  shunned  ?  Oh, 
not  so.  The  principles  are  still  those  which  excite  opposi- 
tion, the  doctrines  are  disliked,  the  practices  are  cherished. 
If  you  could  bring  up  from  the  grave  the  minister  whose 
uncompromising  discharge  of  his  sacred  office  drew  upon 
him  hatred  and  persecution,  but  to  whom  posterity  gives 
its  approval ;  and  if  he  were  to  engage  once  more  in  the 
duties  of  the  ministry ;  do  you  suppose  that  he  would  be 
generally  esteemed  and  admired,  even  as  though  there  had 
passed  a  great  change  over  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and 
truth,  which  had  been  hateful,  had  now  become  accept- 
able ?  Not  so ;  the  opposition  of  the  cross  has  not  ceased : 
it  is  neither  local  nor  temporary :  it  may  be  less  openly 
shown  at  one  time  than  at  another:  but  the  feeling  of 
dislike  to  the  Gospel  is  the  feeling  of  human  nature,  the 


212  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

produce  of  the  heart,  and  asking  nothing  but  its  corruption 
in  order  to  its  growth.  And  the  minister,  whom  we  sup- 
pose to  return  to  the  scene  of  his  labours,  and  whose 
memory  is  so  cherished  and  hallowed,  would  again  have 
opposition  to  encounter,  opposition  which,  if  it  assumed 
not  as  determined  an  attitude,  would  evidence  as  radical  a 
dislike  as  when  some  century  back  he  had  striven  to  im- 
press truth  on  a  scornful  generation. 

For  you  do  not  observe  that  it  is  yet  the  high  road  to 
the  approbation  and  affection  of  men,  to  tell  them  of  their 
faults,  and  to  preach  to  them,  that  if  they  would  be  wise, 
they  must  become  fools.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  no 
denying  that  the  peculiar  truths  of  the  Gospel  are  heard 
with  dislike  and  aversion,  and  that  he,  who  gives  himself 
to  their  full  and  unflinching  publication,  must  lay  his  ac- 
count for  no  small  share  of  prejudice,  misrepresentation, 
and  opposition.  What  right,  then,  can  there  be  to  think 
that  if  the  dead  were  brought  back,  the  dead  whose  mem- 
ories it  may  be  the  fashion  to  honour,  and  whose  sepulchres 
to  adorn,  they  would  receive  a  different  treatment,  and 
find  themselves  listened  to  with  approval,  though  that  ap- 
proval is  withheld  from  those  who  are  labouring  to  walk 
in  their  steps  ?  With  human  nature  just  what  it  was,  and 
the  Gospel  just  what  it  was,  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  the  persecution  of  the  present  day  would  not  have 
been  the  persecution  of  a  former,  and  the  persecution  of  a 
former  the  persecution  of  the  present,  had  the  living  been 
the  dead,  and  the  dead  the  living.  The  man  who  now  dis- 
likes the  truth,  and  who  shows  his  dislike  by  contempt  or 
ridicule  of  the  teachers  of  truth,  would,  for  any  thing  that 
I  can  see  to  the    contrary,  have   shown   his    dislike   by 


XL] 


THE  PROPHETS.  213 


violence  and  injury,  had  he  lived  when  such  modes  were 
commonly  resorted  to  by  the  supporters  of  error.     The 
dislike  is  the  producing  cause  of  opposition ;  and  this  being 
the  same,  the  only  difference  will  be  in  the  form  which  the 
opposition  assumes ;  and  the  form  will  be  determined  by 
the  habits  and  customs  of  the  times.     I  can  find  no  ground 
whatever  for  thinking  that  the  individual  who  is  thoroughly 
opposed  to  Evangelical  doctrine,  but  who  as  thoroughly 
repudiates  the  attempt  to  put  it  down  by  open  persecu- 
tion, would  have  had  a  word  to  say  against  the  killing 
men  for  their  religion,  had  he  lived  when  it  was  usual  to 
hurry  the  faithful  to  the  stake  and  the  scaffold.     There  is 
no  difference  as  to  the  actuating  principle  between  him 
and  those  who  took  a  bloody  course  in  order  to  rid  them- 
selves of  tenets  which  they  utterly  disliked.     And  if  the 
actuating  principle  displayed  itself,  in  the  one  instance,  in 
fierce  cruelty,  whilst,  in  the  other,  its  only  manifestations 
are  ridicule  and  contempt,  the  difference  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  an  altered  state  of  society,  and  to  the  general  diffusion 
of  more  tolerant  sentiment,  rather  than  to  any  such  inhe- 
rent difference  in  men  as  would  forbid  our  supposing  that 
he  who  persecutes  by  a  frown,  might  have  persecuted  with 
the  sword.     Oh,  let  no  one  think  that  he  could  never  have 
joined  with  the  men  of  an  earlier  day  in  resisting  truth 
by  violence  and  bloodshed.     If  he  resist  truth  now  by 
such  modes  as  the  temper  of  the  age  will  permit,  he  has 
the  best  possible  reason  for  concluding,  that,  had  he  lived 
when  other  and  harsher  modes  were  allowed,  he  would 
equally  have  acted  up  to  the  spirit  of  the  times.     There  is 
quite  sufficient  evidence  in  the  honour  rendered  to  the 
dead,  but  withheld  from  the  living,  to  induce  a  persuasion 


214  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

that  the  tombs  may  be  built,  and  the  sepulchres  gar- 
nished, by  those  who  would  have  joined  in  slaying  their 
occupants. 

I  want  to  know  how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  there  is  so 
great  and  general  an  admiration  of  martyrs,  and  confess-, 
ors,  and  other  bold  champions  of  Protestantism,  even 
whilst  the  doctrines  of  Protestantism  may  be  but  little  re- 
garded. I  want  to  know  how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  the 
names  of  men  who,  in  their  own  day,  were  made  "  the  off- 
scouring  of  all  things,"  are  now  held  in  universal  respect, 
though  the  tenets  which  they  laboured  to  enforce,  and  the 
enforcing  of  which  exposed  them  to  scorn,  are  as  much  as 
ever  the  objects  of  a  deep-rooted  dislike.  I  should  have 
expected,  from  the  veneration  in  which  our  martyrs  are 
held,  that  the  principles  which  they  died  to  maintain, 
would  be  every  where  cherished  with  devoted  affection. 
I  should  have  expected,  from  observing  the  justice  which 
posterity  renders  to  faithful  ministers,  whose  faithfulness 
made  them  through  life  the  victims  of  malice  and  con- 
tempt, that  the  pure  unadulterated  Gospel  would  be  prized 
as  the  best  boon  that  God  hath  given  to  man.  But  the 
expectation  is  disappointed :  those  who  will  venerate  the 
martyrs,  may  have  no  love  for  the  truths  which  their  mar- 
tyrdom sealed ;  and  many  who  hallow  the  memory  of  an 
Evangelical  teacher,  may  turn  with  loathing  from  simple 
Evangelical  doctrine. 

And  it  is  by  the  feelings  entertained  towards  the  things 
taught,  and  not  by  those  expressed  towards  the  dead  who 
were  their  teachers,  that  we  are  to  judge  whether  men 
would  have  joined  in  persecuting  the  Prophets.  I  care 
nothing  for  the  stately   mausoleum.     I  have  no  faith  in 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  215 

the  laboured  panegyric.  I  am  not  to  be  persuaded, 
because  sculpture  and  painting  may  devote  themselves  to 
the  representing  the  magnanimous  dead,  or  poetry  conse- 
crate its  richest  melodies  to  the  story  of  their  deeds  and 
their  wrongs.  If  the  truth,  for  which  the  dead  died,  be 
not  beloved  by  the  living,  there  is  no  evidence  that  the 
living  would  not  have  aided  in  their  destruction.  If  the 
doctrines  which  brought  such  obloquy  on  the  departed 
do  not  now  secure  respect  for  their  faithful  publishers 
and  upholders,  what  are  the  encomiums  passed  on  the 
departed,  but  so  many  hypocritical  sayings,  which,  if  not 
expressly  designed  to  deceive,  prove  that  those  who  utter 
them  are  deceiving  themselves?  And  judge  ye  whether 
when  men  are  tried  by  their  attachment  to  truth,  and 
their  zeal  in  maintaining  it,  by  the  favour  which  its  proc- 
lamation conciliates  for  the  living,  and  not  by  the  ap- 
plause which  it  secures  to  the  dead,  they  can  be  acquitted 
of  all  likelihood  that  they  would  have  joiued  in  persecu- 
tion, had  they  lived  in  the  days  when  the  righteous  were 
slain.  Oh,  we  have  in  abundance  the  building  of  the 
tombs,  and  the  garnishing  of  the  sepulchres  ?  But  whose 
tombs  and  whose  sepulchres?  The  tombs  of  men  who 
laid  down  their  lives  in  support  of  doctrines,  which 
are  either  secretly  disliked,  or  openly  denounced,  by 
the  builders:  the  sepulchres  of  preachers  who  would 
not  keep  back  statements  that  are  still  sure  to  provoke 
the  enmity  of  the  garnishers.  And  what  then  are  we  to 
do  but  charge  with  hypocrisy,  as  Christ  charged  the  Jews, 
the  men  who,  overlooking  the  evidence  which  their  own 
hearts  might  furnish,  would  condemn  in  others  what  they 
only  want  temptation  and  opportunity  to  commit  ?  what 


216  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

but  address  theni  in  the  language  of  our  text,  as  we  see 
them  honouring  in  the  dead  what  they  repudiate  in  the 
living,  "  Woe  unto  you !  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the 
Prophets,  and  your  fathers  killed  them.  Truly  ye  bear 
witness  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of  your  fathers ;  for  they 
indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build  their  sepulchres." 

But  we  may  identify  our  own  case  yet  more  closely 
with  that  of  the  Jews.  There  is  perhaps  no  more  common 
feeling  than  that  of  amazement  and  indignation  at  the 
treatment  which  our  Lord  received  from  his  countrymen. 
If  ever  there  moved  upon  the  earth  the  being  who  seemed 
likely  to  disarm  all  enmity,  and  attract  towards  himself 
universal  affection,  that  being,  undoubtedly,  was  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  He  had,  so  evidently,  no  object  but  that  of 
benefiting  others,  and  he  gave  such  evidences  of  ability  to 
compass  this  object,  that  we  might  have  supposed  that  all 
classes  would  have  eagerly  welcomed  him  as  a  Prophet 
and  deliverer.  And  the  apparent  improbability  of  the 
rejection  of  Christ  may  easily  induce  a  persuasion  that, 
had  we  been  in  the  days  of  the  Jews,  we  could  never  have 
shared  in  their  crime.  But  how  ought  such  passages  as 
our  text  to  stagger  us,  showing  us,  as  they  do,  that  the 
Jews  equally  flattered  themselves  that  they  were  incapable 
of  the  sin  of  putting  a  great  Prophet  to  death.  We  make 
no  doubt,  that,  had  we  been  contemporary  with  Christ, 
had  we  beheld  his  miracles  and  listened  to  his  preaching, 
we  should  never  have  been  of  the  number  of  those  who 
sought  his  destruction.  But  what  is  this  persuasion  but 
the  very  persuasion  of  the  Jews,  who  sat  in  judgment  on 
their  fathers,  as  slayers  of  the  Prophets,  and  determined 
that  they  could  never  have  joined  them  in  their  crime; 


XI.]  THE  PROPHETS.  217 

and  this  too  at  the  moment  when  they  thirsted  for  Christ's 
blood,  and  bent  themselves  to  compass  his  death  ?  If 
there  were  not  our  text  in  the  Bible,  I  might  almost  have 
thought  that  no  other  people  but  the  Jews  could  have 
perpetrated  the  deed  from  which  the  sun  drew  back,  and 
at  which  the  earth  trembled.  But  when  I  find  that  even 
the  Jews  could  fancy  themselves  unable  to  do  as  their 
fathers  had  done,  I  look  with  apprehension  on  any  verdict 
of  self-acquittal,  and  almost  take  it  in  evidence  of  a  de- 
pravity adequate  to  the  crime.  It  may  be,  that,  as  I  look 
on  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  plotting  the  destruction  of 
Jesus,  I  feel  that  I  could  never  have  joined  the  guilty 
conclave,  or  that  I  should  have  joined  it  only  to  give  my 
protest  against  the  desperate  wickedness.  It  may  be  that, 
as  I  beheld  the  infuriated  multitude  insulting  the  Ee- 
deemer,  and  demanding  his  crucifixion,  I  feel  that  I  should 
at  least  have  shrunk  away  in  horror,  if  I  had  not  had  the 
courage  to  stand  forward  in  defence  of  persecuted  good- 
ness. It  may  seem  to  me  almost  impossible  that  I  should 
have  conspired  against  Christ,  that  I  should  have  helped 
to  weave  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  to  drive  the  nails  into 
his  hands  and  his  feet.  But  am  I  so  unlike  the  Jew,  is 
there  any  such  radical  difference  between  myself  and  the 
Jew,  that  I  am  warranted  in  believing  that  his  wickedness 
could  never  have  been  mine  ?  Ah,  there  is  at  least  one 
point  of  similarity  between  us ;  and  this  ought  to  make 
me  fearful  of  hastily  concluding  that  there  cannot  be 
more.  And  what  is  this  point?  why,  that  the  Jew  and 
myself  are  equally  ready  to  plead  too  much  goodness  to 
allow  of  joining  in  killing  a  Prophet.  My  way  of  judging 
and  declining  was  precisely  his,  the  reference  to  a  crime 


218  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Xect. 

which  others  committed,  and  the  determining  against  the 
possibility  of  any  participation. 

And  where  there  is  the  same  assurance  of  inability  to 
perpetrate  a  sin,  there  is  probably  the  same  ability.  Let 
us  trust  to  no  verdict  of  acquittal  which  we  may  be  dis- 
posed to  pass  on  ourselves,  after  listening  to  that  which 
the  murderers  of  Christ  so  complacently  uttered.  If  I 
wish  to  make  out  to  you  the  possibility  that,  had  you 
lived  in  the  days  when  Messiah  was  on  earth,  you  would 
have  joined  in  heaping  on  him  ignominy,  and  compassing 
his  death,  it  may  be  in  vain,  as  I  have  already  said,  that  I 
lead  you  to  the  Hall  of  Judgment,  and  to  Calvary,  and 
there  show  you  the  spotless  Redeemer  given  up  to  the  will 
of  his  enemies.  I  well  know  with  what  indignation  you 
will  repel  the  supposition  that  you  could  ever  have  taken 
part  in  persecuting  so  benevolent  and  righteous  a  being. 
Well,  I  will  not  argue  with  you,  where  there  is  so  much  to 
stir  the  passions,  and  to  make  the  blood  boil.  But  I  am 
sure  it  ought  to  make  you  suspicious  of  your  confidence, 
and  afraid  that  you  vastly  overrate  your  own  virtue,  when 
can  show  you  these  very  Jews  repelling,  with  the  same 
indignation  as  yourselves,  the  supposition  that  they  could 
ever  join  in  a  deed  of  cruelty  and  wrong,  pronouncing 
with  the  same  complacency  as  yourselves  on  the  impossi- 
bility of  their  slaying  the  righteous.  Ah,  be  bold  if  you 
will,  whilst  you  only  hear  the  Jews  exclaiming,  "  Crucify 
him,  crucify  him,"  "  not  this  man,  but  Barabbas ;"  but  will 
it  not  stagger  you  to  look  upon  these  Jews,  engaged  in 
rearing  costly  memorials  to  the  martyrs  of  another  day, 
engaged  in  this  work  as  a  sort  of  evidence  that  they  ab- 
horred the  putting  those  martyrs  to  death,  and  could  never 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  219 

have  taken  part  in  so  atrocious  a  deed,  and  thus  drawing 
on  themselves  the  denunciation  of  our  text,  "  Woe  unto 
you !  truly  ye  bear  witness  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of 
your  fathers :  for  they  indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build 
their  sepulchres  ?" 

But  even  yet,  we  have  not  succeeded  in  giving  to  our 
text  that  thorough  personal  application  of  which  we 
believe  it  susceptible.  There  is  no  more  singular  instance 
on  record  than  this  of  the  Jews,  of  the  power  which  there 
is  in  men  of  deceiving  themselves,  of  discerning  clearly 
enough  the  faults  of  another,  whilst  altogether  blind  to 
those  faults  in  themselves.  But  we  wish  to  see  whether 
we  may  not  transfer  the  whole  passage  to  our  own  day  and 
generation,  or  assert  the  repetition  amongst  ourselves  of 
what  was  said  or  done  by  the  profligate  Jews.  There  is  no 
difficulty  in  tracing  the  parallel,  if  you  keep  out  of  sight 
the  hostility  of  the  Jews  to  the  greatest  Prophet  that  the 
world  ever  saw.  The  parallel  is  then  established,  if  the 
men  of  our  own  day  be  ready  to  build  the  tombs  of  the 
Prophets,  and  boldly  to  maintain,  that,  had  they  lived 
when  blood  was  being  shed,  their  hands  should  never  have 
been  stained.  And  beyond  question,  they  are  ready 
enough  for  this,  if  you  put  the  Jews  for  the  fathers,  and 
Christ  for  the  slain  Prophet.  There  is  abundance  of  out- 
ward honour  to  the  founders  of  Christianity,  abundance  of 
what  we  may  call  the  building  the  tomb,  and  the  garnish- 
ing the  sepulchre ;  and  men  have  but  little  hesitation  in 
execrating  the  crime  of  the  Jews,  as  a  crime  far  outdoing 
their  own  power  of  commission.  So  far  therefore  we  may 
safely  take  the  text,  and  give  it  as  descriptive  of  what 
occurs  amongst  ourselves.     But  may  we  also  denounce  the 


220  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

woe  which  it  contains  ?  That  woe  is  evidently  denounced 
on  account  of  the  hypocrisy  of  those  whose  actions  are 
described,  on  account  of  their  conspiring  against  the  liv- 
ing Christ,  whilst  joining  to  do  honour  to  the  murdered 
Prophets. 

And  is  there  any  thing  parallel  to  this  amongst  our- 
selves ?  Indeed  there  is :  for  it  is  very  easy  to  be  indig- 
nant against  those  who  put  Jesus  to  death,  and  all  the 
while  to  overlook  our  own  share  in  the  guilty  transaction'. 
It  is  very  easy  to  give  up  to  universal  execration  the 
Koman  and  the  Jew,  and  to  be  unmindful  of  the  causes 
which  brought  round  the  Crucifixion.  It  is  very  easy  to 
take  the  narrative  of  Christ's  sufferings,  just  as  you  would 
the  narrative  of  some  doleful  occurrence  that  happened  in 
a  remote  age,  and  which  has  little  more  than  its  sadness  to 
give  it  interest  with  your  feelings.  But  who  slew  the 
Lamb  of  God  ?  who  drove  the  nails  ?  who  reared  the 
cross  ?  Not  the  Koman  and  the  Jew.  These  were  but 
agents  and  instruments.  Christ  died  for  the  sius  of  the 
world :  the  sins  of  the  world  were  really  his  murderers, 
though  they  used  the  Roman  and  the  Jew  as  his  execu- 
tioners. And  no  man  regards  the  death  of  Christ  under 
a  just  point  of  view,  who  does  not  charge  himself  with  a 
share  in  the  perpetration.  He  who  does  not  make  himself 
one  of  the  murderers  can  scarcely  have  faith  in  the  propi- 
tiation. It  is  easy  to  condemn  the  Jews  for  murdering 
Christ,  precisely  as  we  condemn  our  own  fathers  for  mur- 
dering Charles  I.  In  both  cases  we  may  condemn,  without 
feeling  that  we  had  personally  any  thing  to  do  with  the 
crime  ;  and  the  condemnation  may  be  the  severer,  from 
the  complacency  with  which  we  regard  our  own  innocence. 


XI.]  THE  PROPHETS.  221 

But  there  is  all  the  difference  between  the  cases  of  the 
Jews  murdering  Christ,  and  of  our  fathers  murdering 
Charles  I.  It  is  quite  true  that  we  are  ourselves  innocent 
of  the  latter  crime  ;  but  it  is  just  as  true  that  we  are  our- 
selves guilty  of  the  former.  And  there  is  no  safety  for  a 
man  until  he  become  self-convicted  of  this  guiltiness.  I 
must  feel  myself  the  shedder  of  the  blood  by  which  I  am 
cleansed,  the  slayer  of  the  Mediator  by  whom  I  am  saved. 
He  died  for  his  murderers,  and  the  benefits  of  his  death 
are  available  to  those  only  who  know  themselves  his 
murderers.  And,  whilst  men  are  pleasing  themselves 
with  the  thought  that  they  could  never  have  joined  in 
killing  a  Prophet,  may  they  not  be  actually  engaged  in 
hostility  to  Christ,  yea,  actually  employed  in  effecting  his 
Crucifixion  ?  If  not,  what  means  St.  Paul  when  he  speaks 
of  some  who  "  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  Him 
to  an  open  shame?"  what  means  Christ  Himself,  when 
saying  to  the  enemy  of  his  Church,  "  Saul,  Saul,  why  per- 
secutest  thou  me?"  There  may  yet,  there  may  now,  be 
such  a  thing  as  piercing  the  Son  of  God,  heaping  on  Him 
ignominy,  and  nailing  Him  to  the  tree.  It  is  virtually  done 
whenever,  notwithstanding  his  amazing  interference,  and 
the  provision  made  at  so  incalculable  a  price  for  human 
deliverance,  men  turn  away  from  the  Redeemer,  refusing  to 
accept  the  mercy  which  He  proffers,  because  they  will  not 
quit  the  sins  which  He  abhors.  It  is  virtually  done  by 
every  wilful  act  of  rebellion,  by  unbelief,  by  pride,  by 
hardness  of  heart,  by  resistance  to  the  strivings  of  the 
Spirit,  by  disobedience  to  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel. 
The  wilful  transgressor  does  all  which  he  can  clo  towards 
rendering  necessary  a  second  Crucifixion  :  he  commits  more 


'22'2  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

and  more  of  that  which  crucified  Christ ;  and  therefore,  so 
far  as  his  own  guiltiness  is  concerned,  may  literally  be 
charged  with  crucifying  Him  again. 

And,  over  and  above  this,  you  are  to  consider  that 
Christ  is  continually  coming  to  the  impenitent  and  obdu- 
rate, in  and  through  the  ordinances  of  religion,  presenting 
Himself  to  them  as  their  Redeemer,  and  beseeching  them 
to  receive  Him,  as  they  would  hope  to  escape  eternal  de- 
struction. But  they  treat  Him  with  contempt.  He  calls, 
but  they  refuse :  He  stretches  out  his  hand,  but  they  will 
not  regard.  And  what  is  all  this,  if  not  the  repetition  of 
the  Jewish  denial  and  rejection  of  Christ  ?  If,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  my  office  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  and  speaking  in 
the  name  of  Christ,  I  propose  to  the  self-righteous  that 
they  renounce  their  own  righteousness  as  nothing  worth, 
and  trust  for  their  acceptance  to  the  righteousness  of  the 
Mediator ;  and  if  they  proudly  refuse,  determining  that 
they  will  take  the  imperfect  and  polluted,  in  preference  to 
the  glorious  and  spotless  ;  I  should  like  to  know  what  this 
practically  is,  if  it  be  not  the  shouting  with  the  Jews, 
"  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas."  If  again,  in  the  exercise 
of  the  same  office,  and  speaking  in  the  same  name,  I  come 
down  upon  the  sensual  and  the  profligate,  and  conjure 
them  that,  without  a  moment's  delay,  they  break  loose 
from  practices  which  must  issue  in  death,  showing  them  the 
Saviour,  and  entreating  them  not  to  persist  in  that  which 
he  abhors ;  and  if  they  turn  away  from  the  entreaty,  anxious 
only  to  get  rid  of  the  molestation,  and  to  be  left  undisturbed 
in  their  impiety — I  should  like  to  know  what  this  practi- 
cally is,  if  it  be  not  the  raising  the  cry,  "Crucify  him,  cru- 
cify him !"     I  say  not,  that,  exalted  as  He  is  to  a  throne  of 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  223 

light,  and  invested  with  all  power  in  Heaven  and  earth, 
Christ  can  any  longer  be  smitten  and  wounded  as  when,  in 
the  days  of  his  humiliation,  He  gave  his  back  to  the 
smiters,  and  his  cheeks  to  them  that  plucked  off  the  hair. 
But  the  question  is  not  what  Christ  may  yet  feel ;  it  is  only 
what  man  may  yet  do.  There  may  be  all  the  intention 
and  all  the  criminality  on  our  part,  whilst  there  is  an  inca- 
pacity of  suffering  upon  his.  So  that  under  every  point 
of  view,  it  is  but  a  just,  though  a  fearful  accusation,  that 
which  arraigns  all  wilful  transgressors  as  crucifiers  of 
Christ.  And  nevertheless  these  wilful  transgressors  bear 
the  Christian  name,  and  may  even  do  much  to  advance  the 
Christian  cause.  Yes,  whilst  living  in  disobedience  to 
Christ,  and  therefore  in  the  practical  rejection  of  Him  as 
the  deliverer  from  sin,  there  are  numbers  who  will  show 
Him  all  outward  respect,  even  helping  to  build  churches, 
and  establish  missions,  that  his  Gospel  may  be  spread  far 
and  wide.  Ah,  then,  have  we  not  at  last  made  out 
thoroughly  the  parallel,  and  shown  that  our  text  may  be 
brought  down  without  the  change  of  a  letter  to  our  own 
day  and  generation  ?  "  Woe  unto  you,  hypocrites  !"  Woe 
unto  you,  men  who  with  no  hatred  of  sin,  and  therefore  no 
love  of  Christ,  call  yourselves  Christians,  and  even  take 
part  in  the  promotion  of  Christianity  !  Ye  are  buildino* 
the  tombs  of  the  Prophets,  ye  are  garnishing  the  sepul- 
chres of  the  righteous.  But  ye  are,  all  the  while,  of  the 
number  of  those  who  are  bent  on  the  rejection  and  cruci- 
fixion of  the  Christ.  Rear  churches  if  you  will,  as  the 
Jews  reared  the  stately  mausoleum  in  honour  of  the  dead 
whom  their  fathers  had  slain.  But  know  ye  that,  so  long 
as  ye  do  not  give  the  heart  to  the  Saviour,  ye  crucify  Him 


224  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  [Lect. 

afresh,  and  must  be  ranked  with  his  murderers.  And  you 
may  execrate  the  wickedness  of  the  Jews :  you  may  flatter . 
yourselves  that  you,  for  your  part,  could  never  have  joined 
in  persecuting  Christ,  seeing  that  you  are  ready  to  bow  at 
his  name,  and  to  yield  respect  to  his  religion.  But  all  this 
only  brings  you  more  accurately  under  the  woe  of  our 
text ;  all  this  only  identifies  you  more  thoroughly  with  the 
men  who,  whilst  bent  on  the  destruction  of  Christ,  could 
join  in  doing  honour  to  the  memory  of  the  martyred  dead, 
and  thus  give  cause  for  its  being  said  of  them,  reproach- 
fully and  indignantly  said,  "Truly  ye  allow  the  deeds  of 
your  fathers :  for  they  indeed  killed  the  Prophets,  and  ye 
build  their  sepulchres." 

Now  there  is  yet  another  and  an  important  point  of 
view  under  which,  in  conclusion,  we  wish  to  place  our  text. 
The  Jews  may  have  believed  and  boasted  themselves  inca- 
pable of  taking  part  in  the  killing  a  Prophet,  little  sus- 
pecting that  they  needed  only  the  being  placed  in  the 
same  circumstances  as  their  fathers,  in  order  to  their  imi- 
tating their  crimes.  And  this  is  but  the  illustration  of  a 
general  truth,  that,  whilst  men  are  not  tempted  to  a  sin, 
they  cannot  judge  whether  or  not  they  would  commit  it 
if  they  were.  With  singular  propriety  are  we  instructed 
to  pray,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation ;"  for  only  tempta- 
tion may  be  needed  to  our  perpetrating  the  worst  crimes 
that  disgrace  human  nature.  They  say  that  the  earth  con- 
tains varieties  of  seed :  and  that,  according  to  concurrent 
circumstances,  is  there  one  production  at  one  time,  and  an- 
other at  another.  And  this  I  am  sure  is  the  case  with  the 
heart,  "  out  of  which,"  according  to  Christ,  "  proceed  evil 
thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  fornications,  thefts,  false  wit- 


XL]  THE  PROPHETS.  225 

ness,  blasphemies."  The  seeds  of  all  these  iniquities  are 
deposited  in  the  heart ;  and  a  certain  state,  so  to  speak,  of 
the  moral  atmosphere,  or  a  certain  combination  of  exciting 
causes,  is  all  that  is  required  to  develop  them  in  the  practice. 
It  does  therefore  but  argue  great  ignorance  of  our- 
selves, to  suppose  that  this  or  that  sin  is  too  bad  for  us  to 
commit.  And  the  persuasion  that  we  could  not  commit 
it,  is  but  an  evidence  of  the  likelihood  of  our  being 
betrayed  into  the  commission ;  for  it  shows  a  measure  of 
self-confidence,  as  well  as  of  ignorance,  which  God  may 
be  expected  to  punish  by  withdrawing  his  grace — and  if 
that  be  withdrawn,  where  -is  human  virtue  ?  We  are 
bound,  as  believers  in  Revelation,  to  believe  that  nothing 
of  evil  is  beyond  our  power,  and  nothing  of  good  within 
it,  if  we  be  left  to  ourselves,  and  are  not  acted  on  by  an 
influence  from  above.  And  our  only  security  against 
becoming  perpetrators  of  crimes,  at  whose  very  mention 
we  perhaps  shudder,  lies  in  such  a  consciousness  of  our 
own  depravity  as  leads  to  a  prayerful,  continual  depend- 
ence on  the  preventing  and  restraining  grace  of  God.  "  Is 
thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should  do  this  ?"  was  the  excla- 
mation of  Hazael  to  the  Prophet,  when  told  of  the  crimes 
which  he  would  live  to  commit.  He  did  not  feel  himself 
bad  enough  for  the  perpetration,  and  therefore  was  no 
sooner  on  the  throne  than  the  penetration  came.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  he  had  said,  Thy  servant  is  naturally  bad 
enough  for  this;  but,  whilst  I  distrust  myself,  I  will  look 
up  to  God  to  withhold  me  from  such  crimes ;  it  may  be 
that  he  would  never  have  committed  the  atrocities  which 
now  darken  his  name.     The   Jews  could  build  the  tombs 

of  the  Prophets,  and  garnish  the  sepulchres  of  the  right- 
15 


226  BUILDING  THE  TOMBS  OF  THE  PROPHETS.  [Lect. 

eous,  proudly  thinking,  whilst  they  recorded  the  sin  of 
their  fathers,  that  themselves  were  too  pure  to  reject  and 
ill-use   a  messenger  of  God.      And  therefore    when   the 
messenger  arose  in  their  land,  they  did  worse  than  their 
fathers,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard,  and  slew  him. 
It  may  be  that  if,  on  the  contrary,  whilst  they  reared  the 
monument,    and   pronounced    a   just  judgment    on   their 
ancestors,  they  had  confessed  the  heart  to  be  "  deceitful 
above  all  things  and  desperately  wicked,"  and  had  added  to 
the  confession  prayer  for  strength  against  temptation,  they 
would  never  have  been  left  to  commit  the  vast  enormity, 
for  which  they  yet  labour  under  the  malediction  of  Heaven. 
Let  us  be  warned,  men  and  brethren,  by  instances  like 
these.     We  have  only  to  be  confident  in  ourselves,  and 
there  is  no  wickedness  which  we  may  not  ultimately  commit. 
Remember  David,  and  "  let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth 
take  heed  lest  he  fall."     I  do  not  say  that  we  are  not  to 
build  the  tombs  of  the  Prophets.     I  do  not  say,  that  is, 
that  we  are  not  to  mark  our  sense,  and  signify  our  abhor- 
rence, of  the  sins  of  our  fellow-men,  whether  our  ancestors, 
or  our  contemporaries.     It  was  not  in  this  that  the  Scribes 
and  the  Pharisees  were  wrong:  crime  is  to  be  reprobated, 
and  the  more  public  the  reprobation  the  better.     But  we 
are  to  be  careful  that  Ave  do  not  acquit  ourselves,  whilst 
condemning  others.    The  sin  was  the  sin  of  men  ;  and  what 
men  have   done,   men  may    do.     Build   then   the   tomb, 
garnish  the  sepulchre :  but,  all  the  while,  say,  "  O  Lord, 
we  have  the  same  evil  heart  as  our  fathers:  restrain  thou 
then  us  by  the  power  of  thy  Spirit ;  otherwise  shall  we, 
in  like  manner,  bequeath  to  our  children  tombs  to  build, 
and  sepulchres  to  garnish." 


LECTURE   XII. 


Bkttiftstnttatt  nf  tjje  Inns  nf  (W. 


Romans  viii.  19. 


a  For  the  earnest  expectation  of  the  creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons 

of  God. 

In  this  and  the  following  verses,  St.  Paul  gives  a  remark- 
able description  of  the  present  state  of  the  visible  crea- 
tion. He  represents  it  as  in  the  agonies  of  travail,  and  as 
intently  expecting  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God. 
The  creature  itself,  he  tells  us,  has  been  made  subject  to 
vanity — referring,  we  may  believe,  to  that  universal  pros- 
titution of  the  works  and  gifts  of  God,  which,  in  different 
degrees,  has  subsisted  ever  since  the  fall.  There  is  scarcely 
the  object,  whether  in  the  animate  or  the  inanimate  crea- 
tion, which  has  not  been  abused  by  man  to  the  purposes 
of  vanity.  Indeed,  whatsoever  God  hath  made  has  been 
worshipped  as  God ;  so  that  idolatry,  which  is  emphati- 
cally vanity,  has  turned  the  universe  into  its  storehouse 
of  deities.  But  there  shall  come  an  end  to  this  subjection 
of  the  creature ;  and,  as  though  the  material  system  were 
conscious  alike  of  its  thraldom  and  its  deliverance,  St. 
Paul   represents   it   as   groaning,    and  yet  anticipating  a 


228  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

glorious  emancipation.  "  The  whole  creation  groaneth  and 
travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now.  The  creature  itself 
also  shall  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corruption 
into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God." 

We  learn,  from  the  bold  imagery  thus  used  by  the 
Apostle,  that  times  of  refreshing  have  to  break  on  this 
oppressed  and  disordered  creation;  and  that,  when  right- 
eousness shall  receive  its  final  and  public  approval,  the 
world  itself  will  spring  into  liberty,  and  walk  the  heavens 
in  renovated  beauty.  It  was  the  world,  with  all  its 
tenantry,  that  Christ  redeemed  from  the  bondage  of  cor- 
ruption ;  though,  as  yet,  there  has  been  no  open  assertion 
of  a  conquest  which  included  whatever  was  affected  by 
human  apostacy.  And  we  are  taught,  by  many  portions 
of  Scripture,  as  well  as  by  that  which  is  now  under  notice, 
that  the  application  of  Redemption  shall  be  finally  co- 
extensive with  the  consequences  of  the  fall,  so  that  what- 
ever withered  beneath  the  curse  will  bloom  again  through 
the  influence  of  the  Atonement.  For  a  long  season  indeed 
evil  is  permitted  to  retain  its  dominion;  and  therefore 
may  the  creation  be  depicted  as  groaning  and  travailing  in 
pain.  But  a  day  is  determined,  on  which  Christ  will 
appear  to  assert  his  victory,  and  exterminate  pollution  ; 
and  therefore  it  is  said  that  the  creature  is  "  subjected 
in  hope." 

St.  Paul  then  goes  on  to  declare,  that  a  sense  of  bur- 
den, not  to  be  overcome  by  the  certainty  of  deliverance, 
was  not  confined  to  the  inanimate,  or  irrational  creation. 
It  was  not  merely  the  visible  world,  with  its  profaned  and 
misused  productions,  which  groaned  and  heaved  beneath 
the  pressure  imposed  by  transgression.     "  Ourselves  also," 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  229 

saitli  the  Apostle,  "  which  have  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
even  we  ourselves  groan  within  ourselves."  Was  it  to  be 
thought  that  the  creation  suffered  thus  acutely,  because 
there  were  no  beginnings  of  relief,  no  foretastes  of  the  yet 
distant  rest  ?  Nay,  argues  the  Apostle,  we  have  the  first- 
fruits  of  the  Spirit,  and  yet  take  part  with  the  creation  in 
signs  of  pain  and  distress.  And  thus  the  greatness  of  the 
oppression  is  strikingly  displayed — to  know  deliverance 
certain,  and  yet  to  groan;  to  receive  earnests  of  peace,  and 
still  to  be  in  agony.  We  forget  the  groans  of  the  inani- 
mate system,  and  of  irrational  or  irreligious  creatures,  when 
we  hear  those  of  believers  in  Christ.  Shall  not  they  who 
feel  themselves  redeemed,  who  already  enjoy  the  foretastes 
of  everlasting  bless,  be  free  from  that  suffering  which 
seems  the  heritage  of  the  fallen  ?  Shall  not  they,  at  least, 
find  such  present  gladness  and  rest,  that  they  will  not  be 
engaged,  like  the  creatures  around  them,  in  longing  for  a 
promised  deliverance  ?  The  Apostle  answers  these  ques- 
tions decidedly  in  the  negative.  "Not  only  they,  but 
ourselves  also,  which  have  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
even  we  ourselves  groan  within  ourselves,  waiting  for  the 
adoption,  to  wit,  the  redemption  of  our  body."  You  will 
observe  what  it  was  for  which  the  true  Christian  waited 
and  longed — "  the  redemption  of  the  body" — for  this  will 
help  us  to  understand  "  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of 
God,"  which  is  mentioned  in  our  text.  They  are  evidently, 
if  not  the  same  thing,  yet  things  which  should  occur  at  the 
same  time :  the  redemption  of  the  body,  that  is,  its  final 
resurrection,  is  to  constitute,  or  to  occur  with,  the  manifes- 
tation of  the  sons  of  God.  The  sons  of  God  are  to  be 
manifested,  gloriously  owned  and  displayed  in  the  face  of 


230  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lix  r. 

the  universe,  when  the  grave  shall  give  up  its  deposit,  and 
soul  and  body  be  admitted  into  Heaven.  Here  will  be  a 
point  deserving  very  close  attention — an  interest,  an  im- 
portance, is  attached  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  which 
may  place  that  great  article  of  our  faith  under  a  new  point 
of  view.  At  the  same  time,  you  should  carefully  observe, 
that,  by  pursuing  the  context  of  the  passage  on  which  we 
discourse,  we  have  found  that  "  the  earnest  expectation  of 
the  creature,"  an  expectation  which  is  indicated  by  tokens 
of  agony  and  distress,  is  shared  by  true  believers  ;  for  they 
too  are  described  as  "  groaning  within  themselves."  Let 
us  follow  out  the  trains  of  thought  which  are  hereby  sug- 
gested— here  is  the  whole  creation,  the  true  Christian  as 
well  as  every  other  being,  groaning  in  pain :  here  is  the 
resurrection,  or  redemption,  of  the  body  represented  as 
the  thing  longed  for  in  this  universal  distress:  when  we 
have  carefully  looked  into  all  these  facts,  we  may,  by 
God's  help,  understand  something  of  the  force  of  the 
remarkable  saying,  "  The  earnest  expectation  of  the  crea- 
ture waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God." 

Now,  Ave  would  first  observe  that  no  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture can  be  more  valuable  to  the  Christian  than  those 
which  open  to  him  the  experience  of  the  most  eminent 
saints.  If  he  can  prove  that  the  conflicts  in  which  he  is 
involved,  and  the  sorrows  by  which  he  is  oppressed,  are 
just  those  which  engaged  and  weighed  down  God's  people 
of  old,  he  has  no  right  to  think  his  own  condition  strange, 
nor  to  use  his  experience  as  an  argument  against  his  secu- 
rity. There  are  many  who  distress  themselves  with,  sus- 
picions that  they  are  not  true  believers,  because  they  feel 
their  love  of  God  to  be  cold,  and  they  are  painfully  con- 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  231 

scions  that  corruption  is  still  mighty  within  them.  We  do 
not  say  that  the  languor  of  spiritual  affections,  and  the 
strength  of  indwelling  sin,  ought  to  be  other  than  occasions 
of  grief  and  humiliation.  But  no  one  can,  on  these  ac- 
counts, be  warranted  in  concluding  himself  an  unrenewed 
man,  who  remembers  the  pathetic  exclamation  of  St.  Paul, 
"  O  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  ?"  If  my  grounds  of  complaint  be 
the  same  with  those  of  an  Apostle,  they  cannot,  at  the 
most,  be  grounds  of  despair.  And  in  this  mainly  lies  the 
worth  of  Christian  biography.  The  registered  experience 
of  men,  whose  piety  admits  not  a  question,  may  be  com- 
pared with  our  own ;  and  when  we  find  that  David,  or 
Paul,  had  to  wrestle  with  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  and 
that  they  passed,  like  ourselves,  through  seasons  of  great 
spiritual  darkness  and  depression,  we  are  taught  that  the 
not  being  perfect  is  no  proof  of  our  not  being  safe  ;  but 
that  there  may  be  much  to  produce  contrition,  which  yet 
ought  not  to  shake  confidence.  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down, 
O  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ?" — in 
these  words  of  the  Psalmist,  there  is  as  much  material  of 
comfort  as  in  the  triumphant  exclamation,  "  The  Lord  is 
my  light  and  my  salvation,  whom  then  shall  I  fear  ?  the 
Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life,  of  whom  shall  I  be 
afraid  ?"  It  is  a  great  thing  to  know  that  David  felt  dis- 
quietude of  soul.  It  identifies  him,  as  it  were,  with  our- 
selves, and  forbids  our  inferring  danger  from  depression. 
And  we  think  the  Book  of  Psalms  most  precious  on  this 
very  account — namely,  that  he  who  is  mourning  for  sin, 
and  cast  down  under  a  sense  of  failures  in  duty,  coldness 
in  love,  and  proneness  to  offend,  may  find  therein  words 


232  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

which  describe  precisely  his  case  and  experience ;  and  yet, 
whilst  he  makes  the  words  his  own,  feel  sure  that  he,  who 
penned  them,  passed  at  death  into  glory. 

We  say  nothing  to  excuse,  or  extenuate,  the  faults  of 
Christians.  For  our  most  dangerous  fault  is  perhaps  the 
making  light  of  our  faults.  But,  certainly,  when  a  man  is 
anxious  in  respect  to  the  soul,  when  it  is  his  earnest  desire 
to  accept  the  salvation  which  is  offered  through  Christ ; 
and  when  the  reasons,  which  make  him  fear  that  he  is  not 
a  true  believer,  are  drawn  from  deficiencies  which  he  la- 
ments, and  dispositions  which  he  abhors  ;  it  is  a  legitimate 
source  of  consolation,  that  men,  who  lived  nearest  to  God, 
had  exactly  the  same  reasons  for  suspecting  their  sincerity. 
Had  David  always  spoken  exultingly  and  confidently,  the 
Psalms  would  have  been  disheartening  writings,  as  proving 
that  their  author  knew  nothing  of  spiritual  anxieties.  But 
when  we  find  him  deploring  his  sinfulness,  complaining  of 
darkness  of  soul,  and  expressing  fears  that  God  had  for- 
gotten to  be  gracious,  there  is  encouragement  in  the 
Psalmist's  disquietude  :  my  trials,  after  all,  were  his :  they 
are,  then,  no  evidences  that  I  am  not  walking  the  pathway 
of  life :  and  he,  whose  continued  triumph  would  have 
dispirited  me,  cheers  and  strengthens  by  his  occasional 
melancholy. 

It  is  thus  also  with  the  writings  of  St.  Paul.  The 
seventh  chapter,  for  example,  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
is  invaluable  on  the  very  account  which  has  just  been  indi- 
cated. It  describes  that  conflict  between  the  carnal 
principle  and  the  principle  of  grace,  of  which  the  breast  of 
every  renewed  man  is  the  scene.  This  conflict  it  is,  with  its 
toils  and  alternations  which  furnishes  the  dowmcast  Chris- 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  233 

tian  with  arguments  against  himself.  The  constantly 
recurring  question  is,  if  I  were  indeed  a  true  believer, 
would  there  be  in  my  heart  these  struggles,  too  often  vic- 
tories, of  natural  corruption  ?  Now,  it  is  a  sound,  though 
not  always  a  practically  convincing,  answer  to  this  question, 
that  the  very  struggles  are  indications  of  sincerity.  It  is 
the  renewed  heart  alone  in  which  there  is  a  conflict.  But 
when  this  answer  fails  to  satisfy,  let  the  inquirer  listen  to 
St.  Paul,  declaring  of  himself,  "  The  good,  that  I  would  I 
do  not :  but  the  evil  which  I  would  not,  that  I  do :"  and 
though  he  will  not  think  less  of  sin,  because  finding  that  it 
has  often  mastered  an  Apostle,  it  is  strange  if  he  be  not 
assured  and  comforted  by  seeing  his  own  experience  por- 
trayed in  that  of  one  so  eminent  in  holiness. 

The  same  remarks  are  applicable  to  the  words  of  our 
text,  when  made  to  include,  as  the  context  shows  that  they 
do,  the  true  believer  in  Christ.  The  whole  creation  which, 
with  so  much  earnestness,  and  in  so  much  disquietude, 
waited  "  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God,"  in- 
cluded the  regenerate  and  the  renewed,  as  well  as  the 
irrational  and  inanimate ;  for,  saith  St.  Paul,  even  "  we 
ourselves,  which  have  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  groan 
within  ourselves."  Now,  we  cannot  doubt  that  such  a  man 
as  St.  Paul  enjoyed  no  common  measure  of  spiritual  conso- 
lation. An  Apostle,  who  had  been  caught  up  to  the  third 
Heaven,  and  who  had  "  heard  unspeakable  words,"  must 
have  known,  perhaps  more  than  any  other,  of  the  joys 
laid  up  for  the  saints.  Indeed  he  here  says,  "  We,  who 
have  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit."  He  does  not  say,  a 
portion  of  the  first-fruits  :  but,  as  though  to  mark  a  posses- 
sion as  large  as  was  attainable  upon  earth,  a  We,  who  have 


234  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit."  Whatever  earnests  and  fore- 
tastes of  future  blessedness  are  ever  accorded  to  believers, 
these,  it  would  seem,  were  enjoyed  by  St.  Paul ;  and  yet 
St.  Paul  had  acute  mental  suffering.  He  shared  in  the 
groans  of  the  anxious  and  expectant  creation — "  Even  we 
ourselves  groan  within  ourselves."  So  that  we  can  have  no 
right,  as  we  are  often  disposed,  to  expect  perpetual  peace 
and  sunshine  of  spirit,  or  to  infer  that  we  are  not  advanc- 
ing towards  Heaven,  because  our  expectations  of  its  joys 
overpower  not  our  griefs.  It  appears  that  the  most 
devoted  believer  may  groan  heavily  in  himself;  nay,  that 
the  internal  anguish  may  quite  consist  with  the  reception 
of  the  richest  earnests  in  Heaven.  And  therefore,  in 
place  of  writing  bitter  things  against  ourselves,  because 
the  promised  blessedness  does  not  make  us  insensible  to 
present  distress,  we  ought  to  be  content,  if,  with  the  holy 
Apostle,  we  can  anticipate  Paradise,  whilst  weighed  down 
by  the  burthens  of  the  flesh. 

We  believe  of  many  Christians,  that  they  distress  them 
selves  with  the  thought,  that  the  hope  of  Heaven  cannot 
have  its  due  influence,  unless  it  make  them  superior  to  the 
afflictions  of  life.  If,  they  will  argue,  our  thoughts  were 
rightly  fixed  on  everlasting  glories,  and  we  did  indeed  an- 
ticipate what  God  hath  prepared  for  his  people,  present 
causes  of  distress  would  be  unable  to  agitate,  and  we 
should  already  enjoy  an  unbroken  happiness.  But  it  is 
evident  that  such  was  not  the  case  with  St.  Paul — what 
ground  have  you,  then,  to  conclude  that  it  should  be  with 
you  ?  St.  Paul  groaned  in  himself,  though  he  had  the  first- 
fruits  of  the  Spirit ;  therefore,  let  no  one  suppose  that, 
because  often  oppressed  and  wearied  in  mind,  he  is  either 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  235 

not  approaching  the  possession  of  Heaven,  or  not  duly 
swayed  by  its  motives.     It  is  thus  that  our  text  sets  itself 
against  a  frequent  occasion  of  despondency.     We  indeed 
thoroughly  acknowledge,  and  earnestly  maintain,  that  the 
hope  and  anticipation  of  Heaven  will  greatly  animate  the 
Christian  during  his  sojourn  upon  earth.     "  For  I  reckon 
that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to 
be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us." 
But  when  we  expect  to  turn  earth  into  Heaven,  to  make 
such  use  of  what  is  promised  that  it  shall  almost  annihilate 
what  is  present ;  and  when  we  think  it  matter  of  self-re- 
proach, that  we  are  not  so  elevated  by  the  majesty  of  what 
is  proposed  as  our  portion,  as  to  soar  above  all  sorrow  and 
anxiety ;  it  is  well  that  we  hearken  to  one  whose  faith  we 
cannot  think  to  rival,   nor  whose  rapture  to   reach,  and 
hear  St.  Paul,  after  he  had  made  creation  vocal,  and  the 
universal  utterance  an  utterance  of  distress,  using  language 
which  proves  that  he  included  himself  in  this  assertion  of 
anxiety  and  weariness,  "  For  the  earnest  expectation  of  the 
creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God." 
But  there  is  much  more  in  these  words  than  an  implied 
answer  to  doubts  produced  by  fixing  some  wrong  standard 
of  spiritual  attainment.     That  there  may  be  the  hope  and 
the  foretaste  of  Heaven,  even  where  there  is  great  spirit- 
ual suffering — this  is  satisfactorily  established  by  the  dec- 
laration of  St.  Paul.     But  how"  it  comes  to  pass  that  these 
may  co-exist — why,  with  all  the  evidences  of  being  a  true 
believer,  there  may  be  groaning  in  ourselves — these  are 
points  which  deserve  serious  inquiry.     Then  again,  when 
the  earnest  expectation  of  the  creature — the  creature  in- 
cluding the  true  believer — has  been  shown  to  be  consistent 


236  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

with  vital  religion,  the  question  will  occur,  Why  should 
this  expectation  he  fixed  on  "  the  manifestation  of  the 
sons  of  God,"  or,  on — for  we  have  seen  from  the  context 
that  this  is  the  same  thing — the  redemption,  or  resurrec- 
tion, of  the  body  ?  We  will  strive  to  embrace  these 
several  matters  within  the  remainder  of  our  discourse. 

And,  first,  as  to  how  a  truly  religious  man,  in  whom 
the  Spirit  of  God  is  t  ctively  working,  can  yet  have  share 
in  that  disquieted  longing  which  the  Apostle  here  ascribes 
to  the  whole  of  this  creation.  You  might  perhaps  have 
thought,  that,  where  the  Spirit  was  evidently  engaged  in 
renewing  a  man,  exciting  in  him  the  love  of  God  and  of 
holiness,  and  continually  increasing  his  conformity  to  the 
image  of  Christ,  the  heart  would  do  nothing  but  exult,  as 
having  proof  of  direct  interest  in  the  promises  of  the 
Gospel.  But  let  it  only  be  remembered  that  what  is  done 
towards  mastering  corruption,  serves  but  to  show  how 
much  remains  undone,  and  you  will  immediately  perceive 
that  what  proves  us  true  followers  of  Christ  may  yet 
minister  to  sadness.  We  need  not  demonstrate  this  to 
those  who  know  any  thing  of  spiritual  experience.  They 
will  at  once  admit  that  they  discover  daily  more  of  the 
wickedness  of  the  heart,  and  of  the  power  of  corruption ; 
so  that  to  grow  in  grace  is  to  grow  in  the  sense  of  their 
own  great  depravity.  Where  is  the  Christian,  however 
long,  and  however  steadfastly,  he  may  have  pressed  to- 
wards Heaven,  who  appears  to  himself  to  have  advanced 
towards  perfection  ? — rather,  where  is  the  Christian  whose 
estimate  of  himself  is  not  one  which  asserts  him  further 
off  than  ever  from  the  scriptural  standard-?  It  is  not  that 
be  goes  back.     Nay,  it  is  not  that  he  fails  to  go  forward  : 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  237 

but  it  is  spiritual  improvement,  to  be  more  and  more  con- 
scious of  natural  depravity.  One  great,  if  not  the  chief, 
work  of  grace  is  the  teaching  us  ourselves ;  and  every 
lesson  is  a  new  demonstration  of  indwelling  evil.  Oh,  he 
can  have  taken  but  few  lessons  in  that  most  intricate,  yet 
interesting,  of  subjects,  his  own  heart,  who  has  not  learnt 
to  say  with  the  Prophet,  "  It  is  deceitful  above  all  things — 
who  can  know  it  ?"  And  you  will  all  admit  that  this  must 
be  painful :  the  believer  may  well  join  his  groans  to  those 
of  the  whole  creation,  if  every  day's  experience  do  but  add 
to  his  sense  of  the  power  of  indwelling  sin. 

Yes,  but,  unquestionably,  there  are  often  vouchsafed  to 
believers  in  Christ  anticipations  of  that  happiness  with 
which  the  future  comes  charged.  It  is  far  enough  from 
the  dream  of  enthusiasm,  that  the  distant  world  will  occa- 
sionally throw  open  its  gates,  and  allow  those  who  are 
fighting  the  good  fight  of  faith  to  animate  themselves  by 
glimpses  of  its  splendours.  Often,  when  the  mind  muses 
on  the  saint's  rest,  in  the  privacies  of  a  holy  solitude,  and 
in  the  retirements  of  communion  with  God  and  his  Son, 
the  promised  glories  will  come  out,  as  it  were,  from  the 
shadowy  distance,  and  time,  with  its  trials,  give  place  to 
eternity  with  its  majesties.  Then  it  is  that  a  "peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding,"  pervades  the  mincl ;  and 
faith,  nerved  by  the  promises  of  the  Word,  brings  into  the 
soul  a  gladness  which  has  nothing  of  earthly  element.  In 
seasons  such  as  these,  the  obtained  view  of  Heaven  is  so 
clear  and  elevating,  that,  whilst  privileged  with  the 
vision,  the  Christian  rises  superior  to  every  fear  and  anx- 
iety :  he  seems  to  himself  to  have  finished  his  conflict, 
trampled  death  under  foot,  and  to  be  already  mingling 


238  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

with  the  happy  throng  who  rejoice  in  the  presence  of  God 
and  of  the  Lamb.  And  shall  a  man,  thus  privileged,  be 
disquieted  ?  Shall  he  join  his  groans  to  those  of  the 
creation  ?  Yes,  indeed.  For  it  were  a  strange  thought, 
that  a  glimpse  of  Heaven  will  make  him  less  alive  to  the 
afflictions  of  earth.  Shall  the  having  gazed,  though  but 
for  an  instant,  on  what  is  pure,  and  peaceable,  and  bright, 
diminish  his  sensibility  to  the  pollution  and  turmoil  of  the 
scene  in  which  he  still  dwells  ?  Shall  he,  when  he  returns 
from  his  lofty  flight,  and  comes  down  from  his  splendid 
excursion,  to  engage  once  more  in  the  business  of  proba- 
tion, and  be  again  occupied  with  keeping  under  the  body, 
and  disciplining  unruly  passions — shall  he,  think  you,  feel 
less  than  before  the  irksomeness  of  the  combat  with  cor- 
ruption, or  be  more  at  home  in  the  wilderness  through 
which  his  path  lies?  Oh,  it  is  not  the  view  of  Heaven 
which  will  lighten  the  burden  laid  on  us  by  our  sinfulness. 
I  had  almost  said,  it  will  increase  that  burden.  Indeed,  it 
is  not  possible  that  a  believer  should  have  gazed  on  the 
fair  spreadings  of  the  saint's  home,  and  contemplated, 
however  distantly,  what  God  hath  prepared  for  him  as  a 
member  of  his  Son,  and  not  have  strengthened  in  the  feel- 
ing, that  Heaven  is  worth  all  his  strivings,  and  in  the 
resolve,  that  he  will  wrestle  for  its  happiness.  But  I 
cannot  think  that  he  will  be  more  at  ease  than  before  in  a 
world  which  will  only  seem  drearier  by  contrast.  I  cannot 
think  that  the  having  listened  to  the  harpings  of  angels 
will  make  the  storm  and  the  discord  sound  less  offensively. 
I  cannot  think  that  because  he  has  tasted  the  fresh  waters 
of  the  river  of  life,  he  will  find  less  bitterness  in  the 
wormwood  which  sin  will  yet  infuse  into  his  cup.     I  cannot 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  239 

think  that,  with  the  earnests  in  possession,  he  will  be  other 
than  more  intense  in  his  longings  for  the  perfect  fruition. 
And  therefore  do  I  believe  that,  the  richer  his  anticipations 
Heaven,  the  deeper  will  be  his  cry,  "  O  that  I  had  the 
wings  of  a  dove  !  for  then  would  I  flee  away  and  be  at 
rest."  So  that  an  Apostle,  and  that  Apostle  St.  Paul,  who 
had  actually  trodden  the  firmament,  and  seen  what  saints 
enjoy,  and  heard  what  seraphs  sing,  was  of  all  others  the 
most  likely  to  feel  the  pressure  of  spiritual  anxieties,  and 
to  sigh  for  deliverance  ;  and  who  then  shall  wonder  at  his 
using  language  which  shows  that  he  included  himself,  and 
other  true  believers,  in  his  description  of  a  groaning  and 
waiting  creation,  "  The  earnest  expectation  of  the  creature 
waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God  ?" 

"  The  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God " — we  have 
already  shown  you  that  the  manifestation  is  that  which 
shall  be  made  at  the  general  resurrection,  when  true  be- 
lievers, "the  sons  of  God,"  shall  receive  their  glorified 
bodies,  and  take  visible  possession  of  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared from  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  The 
Apostle,  indeed,  knew  himself  to  be  a  son  of  God.  But 
he  had  not  yet  been  declared  such  in  the  face  of  the  uni- 
verse, nor  visibly  enrolled  in  the  heavenly  household. 
There  was  yet  to  come  the  public  acknowledgment  by 
God  of  the  saints  as  his  children,  and  their  glorious  inves- 
titure with  the  dignities  which  appertain  to  such  relation- 
ship. For  this  adoption  the  Apostle  longed  ;  yea,  for  this 
adoption,  this  manifestation,  it  was  that  the  whole  creation, 
groaning  in  its  every  department,  looked  with  the  intensest 
expectation.  And  this  adoption,  or  this  manifestation,  is 
identified  with  the  redemption  of  the  body.     The  body 


240  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

was  redeemed  by  Christ  as  well  as  the  soul :  but,  for  wise 
purposes,  the  application  of  this  redemption  is  so  deferred 
that  death  still  claims  the  body  as  its  prey.  It  was  re- 
deemed, inasmuch  as  its  resurrection  was  made  sure  ;  but 
we  still  wait  for  the  redemption,  inasmuch  as  it  hath,  yet 
to  mingle  with  the  dust.  Then  will  be  emphatically  the 
redemptiou  of  our  body,  when,  appearing  visibly  as  the 
Conqueror  of  death  and  of  Hell,  and  sending  forth  into  the 
sepulchres  the  energies  of  his  victory,  Christ  shall  surround 
Himself  with  the  saints  of  every  generation,  a  countless 
army,  wakened  by  his  summons,  and  swelling  his  triumph. 
Sown  in  dishonour,  but  raised  in  glory ;  sown  in  weakness, 
but  raised  in  power ;  sown  a  natural  body,  but  raised  a 
spiritual  body — this  is  redemption,  is  it  not  ?  Oh,  to  be 
no  more  liable  to  pain ;  no  longer  a  weak  and  failing 
thing ;  no  longer  the  subject  of  death,  no  longer  the  organ 
of  sin — transformed  into  an  auxiliary  of  the  soul  in  all  the 
high  business  of  glorifying  God ;  every  faculty,  and  every 
sense,  an  engine  for  the  executing  the  will  of  the  Lord, 
and  gathering  in  new  material  of  happiness — is  not  this 
the  redemption  of  the  body  ? 

And  if  redemption  of  the  body,  is  it  not  moreover 
"  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God  V  The  believer  is 
indeed  already  a  child  of  God;  but  it  is  in  the  spirit 
rather  than  in  the  flesh,  that  he  bears  the  impress  of  son- 
ship.  The  soul  presents  tokens  of  a  heavenly  parentage ; 
but  it  is  yet  true  of  the  body,  that  there  is  a  law  in  its 
members,  warring  against  the  law  of  the  mind.  But  at 
the  Resurrection,  the  fallen  creature  shall  be  visibly  ad- 
mitted into  God's  family,  when,  body  and  soul  both  purged 
from  every  trace,  and  emancipated  from  every  consequence, 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  241 

of  guilt — yea,  both  more  nobly  endowed  than  had  the 
birth-right  never  been  forfeited — man  wears  every  feature 
of  the  lost  image  of  God,  and  the  son  is  known  by  like- 
ness to  the  Father.  And  though  we  doubt  not  that  the 
spirits  of  good  men,  inhabiting  that  separate  state,  in 
which  the  righteous  expect  the  consummation  of  all  things, 
enjoy  much  which  can  be  enjoyed  by  none  but  children  of 
God,  yet  do  we  believe  their  happiness  incomplete,  and 
that  they  eagerly  long  for  that  "  manifestation"  of  which 
our  text  speaks.  They  listen  for  the  trump  of  resurrec- 
tion, the  jubilee  trump  to  them,  as  well  as  to  this  oppressed 
and  groaning  creation.  They  know  that,  at  the  peal  of 
that  trump,  the  stamp  of  sonship,  already  graven  splendid- 
ly on  themselves,  will  be  communicated  to  every  atom  of 
that  dust  which  constituted  the  tabernacles  that  enclosed 
them  on  earth ;  and  that  suddenly  (the  spirit  rushing  into 
its  rebuilded  home)  there  will  be  presented  to  the  universe 
man,  the  fallen  thing,  the  dissolved  thing,  radiant  as  the 
offspring  of  God :  and  that,  hailed  by  this  universe  as  in 
every  lineament  a  child  of  the  Most  High,  his  manifesta- 
tion will  take  place  amid  the  plaudits,  and  consign  him  to 
a  blessedness  exceeding  that  of  angels. 

Great  honour  is  thus  put  upon  the  body.  We  stand 
by  the  lifeless  form  from  which  the  soul  hath  just  de- 
parted ;  but  our  thoughts  are  with  the  soaring  spirit,  and 
not  with  the  tenement  which  lies  before  us  in  its  coldness 
and  its  stillness.  We  strive — though  it  is  vain  that  we 
labour  to  attend  the  arrowy  and  inscrutable  flight — to 
follow  the  soul  into  the  presence  of  its  Maker ;  and  there 
we  imagine  it  robed  in  light,  and  rich  in  happiness ;  but 

the  body  is  regarded  with  melancholy,  and  almost  with 
16 


242  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

disgust ;  and  we  make  the  sad  preparations  for  its  funeral ; 
and  we  seem  to  count  it  altogether  lost  when  coffined  and 
sepulchred.  If  we  would  console  those  who  are  mourning 
under  bereavement,  we  speak  of  the  blessed  estate  of  the 
emancipated  spirit :  our  discourse  turns  exclusively  on  the 
soul;'  and  scarce  a  solitary  word  is  given  to  the  body 
which  has  been  left  to  corruption.  It  was  not  thus  with 
St.  Paul.  Death  had  entered  the  Thessalonian  families, 
and  the  Apostle  desired  to  speak  peace  to  the  mourners. 
The  words,  which  he  employed,  were  undoubtedly  in- 
tended to  serve  as  a  model  of  consolatory  discourse ;  for 
he  concludes  by  saying,  "  Wherefore  comfort  one  another 
with  these  words."  But  what  were  these  words  ?  Not 
words  on  the  happiness  of  the  separate  state,  its  deep  and 
rapturous  repose.  They  were  words  of  a  resurrection.  I 
hear  in  them  the  shout  of  the  descending  Mediator,  the 
voice  of  the  Archangel,  the  trump  of  God.  The  Apostle 
makes  no  reference  to  the  soul:  he  speaks  only  of  the 
body :  and  that  the  grave  shall  be  emptied,  that  the 
saints,  found  alive  at  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  shall  not 
"  prevent  them  that  are  asleep,1"  but  that  "  the  dead  in 
Christ  shall  rise  first" — these  are  the  topics  by  which  he 
would  animate  the  Thessalonians  to  the  sorrowing  not  as 
others  which  have  no  hope.  Why  did  he  fetch  the  mate- 
rial of  his  consolation  from  the  resurrection  of  the  body  ? 
Because  it  was  death  which  had  brought  sorrow  into  these 
families:  if,  then,  he  would  comfort  them,  let  him  show 
them  death  vanquished  and  destroyed.  Many  hopes  and 
many  joys  had  gone  down  into  the  grave :  let  him  then 
irradiate  that  grave,  and  strip  it  of  its  terrors.  I  know 
not  why  a  chuichyard  should  excite  none  but  melancholy 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  243 

thoughts  ;  nor  why,  if  we  are  to  be  cheered  under  bereave- 
ment, our  meditation  must  be  wholly  on  the  disembodied 
spirit.  We  have  heard  of  the  redemption  of  the  body. 
With  that  redemption  stands  associated  whatever  is  mag- 
nificent and  transporting  in  our  everlasting  portion.  The 
quickening  of  the  buried  dust  will  be  "the  manifestation 
of  the  sons  of  God."  Shall  we  not,  then,  look  on  the 
receptacle  of  the  dead  with  other  emotions  than  those 
stirred  by  the  gloom  and  silence  of  its  chambers  ?  Shall 
we  not  regard  it  as  the  future  scene  of  the  Mediator's 
triumphs ;  the  spot  on  which  shall  be  effected  the  full  and 
final  regeneration  of  humanity ;  and  from  which,  amid  the 
convulsions  of  approaching  judgment,  shall  issue,  in  con- 
fessed and  blazing  majesty,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Lord  Almighty  ?  Shall  we  give  nothing  but  our  tears  to 
the  funeral  procession,  as  though  we  knew  not  that  there 
is  borne  along,  in  this  sad  solemnity,  dust  which  will 
engage  the  watchfulness  of  God,  dust  for  which  a  Re- 
deemer died,  and  which,  though  it  have  its  season  of 
slumber  and  dishonour,  is  vet  so  reserved  for  glorious 
allotment,  that  the  soul,  as  it  rejoices  in  the  light  of  God's 
presence,  longs  for  its  resurrection,  as  for  that  which  shall 
usher  into  the  promised  inheritance  ? 

Hearken  to  the  text,  "  The  earnest  expectation  of  the 
creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God." 
It  is  as  though  the  inanimate  and  irrational  creation,  bur- 
dened with  the  consequences  of  man's  transgression,  fixed 
its  gaze  on  the  sepulchres  of  the  saints,  and  longed  for  the 
moment  when  they  shall  be  riven  by  the  Judgment  call. 
Let  those  sepulchres  open  ;  and  there  will  come  a  restitu- 
tion of  the  beauty  which   sin  blighted,  and  of  the  peace 


244  MANIFESTATION  OF  [Lect. 

which  it  marred.  With  the  resurrection  of  the  righteous 
will  be  that  of  the  departed  glories  and  the  lost  gladness 
of  our  terrestrial  system.  Well,  therefore,  may  creation 
pant  for  "the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God."  But 
not  only  they — shall  not  ourselves  also  eagerly  expect 
this  manifestation  ?  With  a  body  whose  passions  and 
appetites  militate  against  righteousness,  we  are  painfully 
conscious  of  unfitness  for  membership  with  the  pure  family 
of  Heaven ;  and,  therefore,  however  we  enjoy  the  first- 
fruits  of  the  Spirit,  we  must  "  groan  in  ourselves."  For 
what  then  shall  we  look  and  long,  if  not  for  the  applica- 
tion of  the  virtues  of  redemption  to  body  as  well  as  soul  ? 
It  is  not  death  which  we  desire :  it  is  resurrection :  resur- 
rection is  the  redenrption  of  the  body,  its  redemption  from 
dishonour,  its  redemption  from  pollution.  We  join  crea- 
tion as,  with  outstretched  neck,  it  watches  every  token 
that  the  manifestation  of  God's  sons  draws  near.  The 
coming  of  the  Lord  is  that  mighty  event  which  engages, 
if  we  know  our  own  privileges,  the  longings  of  the  heart ; 
for  He  comes  to  "  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be 
fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body."  Yes,  the  groan- 
ings  which,  throughout  long  centuries,  have  issued  from 
this  earth,  have  not  been  unheeded :  God  has  heard  the 
cry  of  a  suffering  creation,  and  the  mourning  of  such  as 
feel  the  burden  of  corruption.  He  will  come  forth  from 
his  place ;  He  will  exterminate  evil  from  his  empire.  The 
sceptre  shall  be  restored  to  the  rightful  King;  and  the 
sons  of  God,  gathered  from  our  alienated  tribe,  be  pre- 
sented "  without  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing." 

I  may  not  be  able  to  imagine  the  scene.     This  starting 
from  the  dust;  this  re-union  of  body  and  soul;  this  en- 


XII.]  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  245 

thronement  of  the  Mediator  in  his  magnificent  sover- 
eignty ;  this  exchange  of  the  universal  lament  for  the 
universal  gladness — the  fir-tree  coining  up  instead  of  the 
thorn,  and  instead  of  the  brier  the  myrtle — I  cannot  pic- 
ture such  august  occurrences.  But  Scripture  associates 
them  with  the  coining  of  Christ.  If  then — and  God 
grant  that  we  may  all  feel  weary  and  heavy  laden  with 
the  burden  of  sin — we  are  compelled  to  join  in  the  groans, 
we  will  join  also  in  the  hopes  of  the  creation.  "  Looking  for 
that  blessed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of  the  great 
God,  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  The  dust,  I  must 
inhabit  it  for  a  while.  But,  if  I  carry  down  with  me  to 
the  grave  the  distinctive  marks  of  a  believer  in  Christ, 
hatred  of  sin,  and  desires  after  holiness,  the  grave  shall  be 
only  as  the  womb  in  which  I  am  fashioned  for  immortality. 
When  Chriat  left  the  grave,  the  proclamation  was,  "  Thou 
art  my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee ;"  and  if  son- 
ship  followed  the  resurrection  of  the  Head,  adoption  and 
manifestation  shall  be  perfected  in  that  of  the  members. 
I  add  nothing  but  my  earnest  prayer  to  the  God  of  all 
grace,  that  we  may  all  be  found  in  Christ  at  his  second 
appearing. 


LECTUEE  XIII. 


#t.  Raul's  SrtBrminatiim. 


1  Cob.  ii.  2. 

"For  I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 

crucified." 

And  was  the  Apostle  wrong  in  his  determination  ?  He 
speaks  as  if  the  doctrine  of  the  cross  were  ample  enough, 
comprehensive  enough,  for  all  his  powers.  Does  this,  at 
all,  indicate  that  he  was  of  a  narrow  and  contracted  mind, 
which  could  apply  itself  to  only  one  topic,  whilst  a  hundred 
others,  perhaps  nobler  and  loftier,  lay  beyond  its  grasp  ? 
Nay,  not  so  ;  the  tone  of  St.  Paul  abundantly  indicates 
that  he  gloried  in  being  thus  limited  to  the  Cross — gloried, 
because  in  comparison  there  was  nothing  else  worth  know- 
ing— gloried,  because  this  one  knowledge  might  be  said  to 
include,  or,  where  it  did  not  include,  to  supersede  every 
other.  The  tone  of  the  Apostle  is  not  that  of  a  man  who 
is  apologizing  for  the  limited  character  of  his  preaching,  or 
its  humiliating  tendency ;  it  is  rather  that  of  one  who  felt 
that  the  Corinthians  had  nothing  to  complain  of,  seeing 
that  he  had  taught  them  the  most  precious,  the  most  dif- 
fusive,  the   most   ennobling  of  truths.     Indeed,    he    had 


ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  247 

known  nothing  amongst  tliein,  "save  Jesus  Christ,  and 
Him  crucified" — but  what  else  was  there  which,  as  sinners, 
it  was  important  for  them  to  learn  ?  what  which,  if  learnt, 
did  not  derive  a  fresh  meaning,  or  fresh  interest,  from  the 
Cross  of  the  Redeemer  ? 

Here,  then,  is  our  subject  of  discourse — the  Apostle 
determined  to  know  nothing  save  the  Cross;  but  the  Cross 
is  the  noblest  study  for  the  intellectual  man,  as  it  is  the 
only  refuge  for  the  immortal.  How  different  was  the  plau 
of  the  Apostle  from  that  pursued  by  many  who  have 
undertaken  the  propagation  of  Christianity.  It  is  record- 
ed, we  believe,  of  some  of  the  Roman  Catholic  mission- 
aries, that,  in  their  endeavours  to  bring  over  the  heathen 
to  Christianity,  they  scrupulously  kept  the  Crucifixion  out 
of  sight,  considering  that  such  a  fact  would  invincibly 
prejudice  those  whom  they  wished  to  convince.  And  it  is 
well  known  that  the  Moravian  missionaries,  men  of  extra- 
ordinary piety  and  zeal,  laboured  for  a  long  time  in  Green- 
land, without,  at  least,  giving  prominence  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  atonement,  believing  that  it  became  them  to  clear  the 
way,  and  prepare  men's  minds,  before  they  advanced  the 
truth  of  Christ's  death — a  truth  so  likely,  as  they  thought, 
to  give  fatal  offence  even  to  the  most  degraded  and  bar- 
barous. In  each  case  the  same  feeling  was  at  work — the 
feeling  that  there  is  something  very  humiliating  in  the 
Cross,  and  that  human  reason,  and,  yet  more,  human  pride, 
must  recoil  from  the  thought  of  being  saved  by  one  who 
died  as  a  malefactor.  And  you  must  all  be  aware  that, 
whatever  the  error  or  mistake  of  the  missionaries  to  whom 
we  have  referred,  there  is  a  great  repugnance  in  men's 
minds  to  that  doctrine  which  is  virtually  the  essence  of 


248  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

Christianity,  and  that  what  St.  Paul  elsewLn  re  calls  "  the 
offence  of  the  Cross"  can  only  cease  with  the  thorough 
renewal  of  our  nature.  It  must  be  immediately  allowed 
that  the  scheme  of  Christianity  is  not  one  which  commends 
itself  at  once  to  those  whom  it  proposes  to  rescue  ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  so  constructed  as  almost  necessarily  to  excite 
opposition,  because,  in  place  of  nattering  any  one  passion, 
it  requires  the  subjugation  of  all.  But,  after  all,  the  ob- 
servable thing  is  that  Christianity  is  valuable  and  glorious 
on  those  very  accounts  on  which,  in  common  estimation,  it 
must  move  the  antipathies  of  its  hearers.  The  missionary 
might  keep  back  all  mention  of  the  Cross,  because  fearful 
of  exciting  dislike  and  contempt.  But,  all  the  while,  he 
would  be  withholding  that  which  gives  its  majesty  to  the 
system,  and  striving  to  apologize  for  its  noblest  distinction. 
It  is  sufficiently  evident,  from  the  words  of  our  text, 
that  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  great  Apostle  to  the  Gen- 
tiles. And  we  reckon  it  of  importance  that  we  should 
occasionally  shift  the  ground  of  debate  ;  that,  in  place  of 
admitting  what  may  be  styled  the  shame  of  the  Cross,  we 
should  boldly  affirm  and  exhibit  its  glory.  We  know  not 
that  we  ought  to  allow  that  the  missionaries,  of  whom  we 
have  spoken,  acted  with  prudence  and  penetration,  even 
supposing  that  they  had  only  carnal  principles  for  their 
guidance.  With  all  our  admission,  that,  at  the  first  hear- 
ing, there  would  be  something  repulsive  in  the  doctrine  of 
Christ  crucified,  we  believe  that  this  doctrine  has  only  to  be 
fairly  exhibited,  and  fully  expanded,  in  order  to  its  attract- 
ing the  warmest  admiration — and  we  can  thiuk  it  in  the- 
highest  degree  probable,  even  if  you  shut -out  the  consid- 
eration that  faithful  preaching  alone  may  expect  the  divine 


XIII.]  ST.  PAULS  DETERMINATION.  249 

blessing,  that  missionaries  would  have  made  far  greater 
way  by  insisting  on  and  displaying  the  majesty  of  the 
Cross,  than  by  keeping  out  of  sight,  or  only  partially 
exhibiting,  what  they  erroneously  thought  so  likely  to 
displease.  And  it  is  this  which,  on  the  present  occasion,  we 
wish  to  make  good.  Give  your  close  attention  to  so  inter- 
esting a  question.  We  are  to  set  the  Apostle  against  all 
those  teachers  who  would,  in  any  way  or  degree,  keep 
back,  or  obscure,  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross ;  and  we  are  to 
see  whether  he  did  not  display  as  much  of  wisdom  as  of 
boldness,  when,  in  no  tone  of  apology,  but  with  the  confi- 
dence of  oue  who  knew  that  he  had  taught  what  was  best 
worth  the  being  learned,  he  exclaimed  to  the  Corinthians, 
"I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among  you,  save 
Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified." 

Now,  we  need  hardly  observe  to  you,  that,  so  far  as 
Christ  Jesus  Himself  was  concerned,  it  is  not  possible  to 
compute  what  may  be  called  the  humiliation  or  shame  of 
the  Cross.  It  is  altogether  beyond  our  power  to  form  any 
adequate  conception  of  the  degree  in  which  the  Mediator 
humbled  Himself,  wrhen  born  of  a  woman,  and  taking  part 
of  flesh  and  blood.  It  is  beyond  our  power,  because,  with 
all  our  searchings,  we  cannot  find  out  God,  we  cannot  ap- 
proach the  confines  of  the  Divine  nature  ;  and  therefore, 
neither  can  we  measure  the  mighty  descent  down  which 
Divinity  passed  in  assuming  humanity.  But,  after  all,  the 
more  surprising  humiliation  is  that  which  seems  to  come 
more  nearly  within  our  measurement — the  humiliation  of 
the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  the  humiliation  to  which  the  Medi- 
ator submitted  after  our  nature  had  been  assumed.  In 
merely  becoming  man,  or,  rather,  in  becoming  man  without 


250  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

the  taint  of  original  sin,  the  eternal  Word  did  not  bring 
Himself  under  the  curse :  He  was  not  accessible  to  death, 
that  great  penalty  of  transgression;  neither  was  He 
heir  to  any  of  that  degradation  which  is,  literally,  our 
birthright  as  the  seed  of  the  apostate.  But  when  the 
Redeemer,  though  He  had  done  no  sin,  consented  to  place 
himself  in  the  position  of  sinners — when,  though  the  vio- 
lated law  had  no  claims  upon  Him,  He  voluntarily  made 
Himself  the  subject  of  its  exactions — then  was  it  that  He 
marvellously  and  mysteriously  descended — there  being,  if 
we  may  venture  to  compare  things,  neither  of  which 
we  can  measure,  something  less  overwhelming  in  the  fact, 
that  "  the  Word  was  made  flesh,"  than  in  the  other  fact, 
that  "  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  He  humbled  Him- 
self, and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of 
the  Cross."  Here  it  is  that  the  word  "shame"  may  justly 
be  used  ;  for  in  this  it  was  that  Christ  Jesus  became  "  a 
curse  for  us."  We  read  nothing  of  the  shame  of  his  be- 
coming a  man,  but  we  do  read  of  his  dying  a  malefactor. 
Thus  St.  Paul  declares  of  Him,  in  his  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  "Who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  Him, 
endured  the  Cross,  despising  the  shame" — an  expression 
which  equally  marks  that  Christ  was  sensible  of  the 
indignities  of  his  death,  and  that  He  made  light  of  them 
when  compared  with  the  recompense  which  was  to  follow. 
And  if  we  allow  that  it  was  a  shameful  thing,  that  it 
involved  a  humiliation  which  no  thought  can  measure,  that 
the  Lord  of  life  and  glory  should  have  hung  as  a  male- 
factor between  earth  and  heaven,  with  what  other  emotions, 
you  may  ask,  but  those  of  sorrow  and  self-reproach,  should 
we  contemplate  the  Cross?     Shall  we  exult  in  the  Cross? 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  251 

Shall  we  make  it  matter  of  triumphant  rejoicing,  that  the 
Son  of  God  had  to  ascend  such  an  altar,  and  that,  stretched 
thereon,  an  ignominious  spectacle,  He  poured  out  his  soul 
unto  death  ?  Indeed,  we  are  not  so  to  exult  as  to  lose  those 
feelings  of  godly  contrition  which  a  sight  of  the  Cross 
should  always  produce.  The  awful  transactions,  of  which 
Calvary  was  the  scene,  should  never  be  contemplated  by  us 
without  a  deep  sense  of  the  magnitude  of  the  guilt  which 
required  such  an  expiation,  and  great  self-abhorrence  at 
having  added  to  the  burden  which  weighed  down  the 
innocent  Sufferer.  But,  nevertheless,  though  of  all  men, 
perhaps,  St.  Paul  was  the  least  likely  to  forget  or  under- 
rate the  causes  of  sorrow  presented  by  the  Cross,  this 
great  Apostle,  in  determining  to  know  nothing  but  the. 
Cross,  could  adopt  a  tone  which  implied  that  he  gloried 
in  the  Cross.  And  why,  think  you,  was  this  ?  How 
comes  it  to  pass  that  that,  which,  under  one  point  of  view, 
covers  the  beholder  with  confusion,  should  yet,  under 
some  other,  excite  feelings  of  exultation,  as  though  all  the 
shame  disappeared,  and  there  remained  nothing  but  the 
magnificence  of  triumph  ?  Or  why,  if  there  be  so  much 
of  shame  about  the  Cross,  was  the  Apostle  wise,  when 
addressing  himself  to  a  refined  and  polished  people,  in 
determining  to  "  know  nothing  but  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified  ?" 

Indeed,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  finding  answers  to  these 
questions ;  the  only  difficulty  is  in  the  selecting  those 
which  are  the  more  pertinent  and  striking.  We  may  first 
observe  that  the  great  truth  which  the  Apostle  had  to  im- 
press on  the  Corinthians  was,  that,  in  spite  of  their  sinful- 
ness and  alienation,  they  were  still  beloved  by  the  one  true 


252  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

God.  And  how  could  he  better  do  this  than  by  display- 
ing the  Cross  ?  The  greater  the  humiliation  to  which  the 
Son  of  God  submitted,  the  greater  was  the  amount  of 
Divine  love  towards  man.  We  admit,  what,  of  course,  it 
is  impossible  to  deny,  that  there  was  an  unmeasured  indig- 
nity in  the  death  of  the  Cross,  and  that  the  consideration 
that  it  was  for  our  sakes  this  indignity  was  endured,  should 
bring  us  down  to  the  dust,  and  fill  us  with  penitential  sor- 
row. But  who  can  fail  to  perceive  that,  the  greater  the 
obstacles  to  our  rescue,  the  lower  the  depths  to  which  a 
Mediator  must  descend  in  order  to  lay  hold  on  the  perish- 
ing, the  more  intense  was  the  manifestation  of  the  com- 
passions of  God,  of  his  regard  to  the  lost,  notwithstanding 
their  apostacy  ?  We  know  not  whether  it  be  lawful  to 
speak  of  the  possibility  of  our  having  been  saved  through 
any  other  arrangement.  We  may  not  be  able  to  prove, 
and  perhaps  it  hardly  becomes  us  to  investigate,  what  may 
be  called  the  necessity  for  Christ's  death,  so  that,  unless 
Jesus  had  consented  to  die,  it  would  not  have  been  in 
God's  power  to  open  to  us  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But 
we  cannot  be  passing  the  bounds  of  legitimate  supposition, 
if  we  imagine,  for  a  moment,  that  some  less  costly  process 
had  sufficed,  and  that  justice  had  been  satisfied,  without 
exacting  from  our  Surety  penalties  so  tremendous  as  were 
actually  paid.  And  is  it  not  too  evident  to  ask  any  proof, 
that,  in  the  very  proportion  in  which  you  diminish  the 
sufferings  of  the  Mediator,  you  diminish,  also,  the  exhibi- 
tion of  his  love,  and  leave  it  a  thing  to  be  questioned, 
though  not  perhaps  disproved,  that  God's  compassions  are 
ample  enough  for  every  case  of  human  sinfulness  and  sor- 
row ?     It  is  the  fine  argument  of  St.  Paul,  an  argument  by 


XIIL]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  253 

which  he  would  repress  every  fear  and  animate  to  confi- 
dence, "He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered 
Him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  He  not  with  Him  also  freely 
give  us  all  things  ?"  It  is  an  argument  which  rests  on  the 
fact  that  nothing  can  be  needed  by  us  which  it  would  cost 
God  as  much  to  bestow,  as  did  that  which  has  already 
been  given;  and  Avhich  draws,  as  an  inference  from  this 
fact,  that  He  who  has  imparted  the  greater  benefit  cannot 
be  willing  to  withhold  the  less.  But  you  destroy  the  force 
of  the  argument,  you  take  all  point  from  the  verse,  if  you 
in  any  degree  weaken  the  words,  "  He  that  spared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  delivered  Him  up  for  us  all."  Suppose  that 
God  had  spared  his  own  Son;  suppose  that  the  arrange- 
ments made  for  our  redemption  had  not  required  his 
delivering  Him  up  for  us  all;  and  is  it  not  undeniable  that 
the  Apostle's  reasoning  is  so  weakened  that  it  could  not 
be  urged  in  many  extreme  cases  of  guilt  and  destitution  ? 
There  might  have  been  room  for  debate  whether  what  was 
required  did  not  exceed  what  had  already  been  done,  and 
whether  therefore  the  fact  of  redemption  furnished  ground- 
work of  hope,  or  rather  of  assurance,  that  God  would  give 
what  the  urgency  demanded. 

But  Eedemption  through  the  death,  the  death  on  the 
Cross,  of  a  Mediator,  and  that  Mediator  the  Only-begotten 
of  the  Father,  leaves  no  place  for  such  debate,  because  im- 
agination itself  can  suggest  nothing  greater  than  what  God 
hath  already  done,  and  because  therefore  no  case  can  arise 
in  which  the  want  can  be  thought  to  exceed  the  munifi- 
cence and  mercy  of  God.  It  is  then  to  "  Christ  Jesus,  and 
Him  crucified,"  that  we  make  our  appeal,  when  we  would 
furnish  such  evidence  of  Divine  love  as  must  overbear  all 


254  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

unbelief.  We  do  not  rest  our  proof  on  the  fact  that  we 
have  been  redeemed,  but  on  the  fact  that  we  have  been 
redeemed  through  the  bitter  passion,  and  the  ignominious 
death,  of  God's  only  and  well-beloved  Son.  It  is  here 
that  the  proof  is  absolutely  irrefragable.  Knowing  that 
Christ  "  bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree,'"  we 
know  that  we  are  beloved  with  a  love  which  no  thought 
can  measure,  no  un worthiness  alienate,  no  necessities  over- 
task. What  then,  as  sinners  alienated  from  God,  can  we 
want  to  know,  if  we  know  "  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  cruci- 
fied ?"  In  what  shall  we  exult,  iu  what  glory,  if  not  in 
this  knowledge  ?  If  there  be  a  cause  of  exultation,  a  mo- 
tive for  rejoicing,  to  a  fallen  creature,  must  it  not  be  that 
he  is  still  dear  to  his  Maker,  that  notwithstanding  all 
which  he  hath  done  to  provoke  Divine  wrath,  and  make 
condemnation  inevitable,  he  is  regarded  with  unspeakable 
tenderness  by  the  Almighty,  watched  over  with  a  solici- 
tude, and  provided  for  at  a  cost,  which  could  not  be  ex- 
ceeded if  he  were  the  noblest  and  purest  of  the  beings 
that  throng  the  intelligent  universe  ?  Teach  me  this,  and 
you  teach  me  every  thing.  And  this  I  learn  from  Christ 
crucified.  I  learn  it  indeed  in  a  measure  from  the  sun  as 
he  walks  the  firmament,  and  warms  the  earth  into  fertility. 
I  learn  it  from  the  moon,  as  she  gathers  the  stars  into  her 
train,  and  throws  over  creation  her  robe  of  soft  light.  I 
gather  it  from  the  various  operations  and  provisions  of  na- 
ture, from  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  from  the  capacities  of 
the  soul.  But  if  I  am  taught  by  these,  the  teaching  after 
all  is  but  imperfect  and  partial :  they  do  indeed  give  testi- 
mony that  man  is  not  forgotten  of  God ;  but  the  testimony 
would  be  equally  given,  were  there  the  power  of  receiving 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  255 

it,  to  the  brute  creation,  to  the  innumerable  animated 
tribes  which  are  to  perish  at  death.  It  is  not  a  testimony, 
at  least  not  a  direct,  that  we  are  cared  for  as  immortal 
beings,  and  can  be  pardoned  as  sinful.  It  is  not  a  testi- 
mony that  He  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  look  upon  in- 
iquity, can  receive  into  favour  even  the  vilest  of  those  who 
have  thrown  off  allegiance,  and  manifest  such  an  exuber- 
ance of  loving-kindness  towards  the  guilty,  as  will  not 
leave  the  worst  case  without  hope  and  without  succour. 
Show  us  what  will  give  such  testimony  as  this,  and  sun, 
and  moon,  and  the  granaries  of  nature,  and  the  workings 
of  intellect,  will  drop,  in  comparison,  their  office  of  in- 
structor. 

We  show  you  Christ  on  the  Cross.  Are  the  blazings 
of  the  sun,  or  the  milder  shillings  of  the  moon,  or  the  pro- 
ves of  vegetation,  or  the  soarings  of  mind,  a  thousandth 
part  as  demonstrative  of  a  love  in  which  sinners  may  con- 
fide, as  this  emblem  of  shame,  this  memento  of  ignominy  ? 
I  gaze  upon  the  Cross,  and  He  who  is  extended  there 
seems  stretching  forth  the  arms  of  his  kindness,  that  He 
may  embrace  the  world,  and  gather  the  perishing  under 
the  wing  of  his  protection.  It  is  no  finite  being  who  is 
thus  suspended ;  though  He  be  dying  amid  the  revilings 
of  his  enemies,  He  is  "from  everlasting  and  to  everlast- 
ing," as  truly,  as  actually,  God,  as  though  throned  in  inac- 
cessible splendour  and  summoning  into  existence  new 
worlds  and  new  orders.  Then  I  cannot  doubt  the  Divine 
love.  I  cannot  doubt  of  this  love,  that  it  may  justly  b  \ 
called  inexhaustible  ;  and  that,  if  I  will  only  allow  myself 
to  be  its  object,  there  is  no  amount  of  guiltiness  which  can 
exclude  me  from  its  embrace.     And  this  it  is  which,  as  an 


256  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

immortal  yet  sinful  being,  I  have  most  interest  in  ascer- 
taining; this  it  is  in  which,  if  once  ascertained,  I  have 
most  cause  to  exult.  Come  then  a  teacher  to  those  sunk 
in  Heathenism,  and  what  shall  he  teach  ?  Ay,  one  may 
go  and  tell  them  of  their  being  objects  of  God's  provi- 
dence, fed  by  his  bounty,  guided  by  his  light,  curtained  by 
his  shadow.  Another  may  tell  them  of  their  having  been 
made  after  his  image,  endowed  with  immortality,  illumi- 
nated by  reason.  I  would  not  be  insensible  to  the  excel- 
lence of  such  teaching,  to  the  beauty  of  these  proofs  of  the 
love  of  the  Creator.  But,  feeling  that  these  Heathen  are 
in  danger  of  eternal  destruction,  and  knowing  that  the 
sacrifice  made  on  their  behalf  is  such  as  irresistibly  proves 
that  God  so  loves  them  as  to  do  every  thing  to  save  them, 
except  dishonour  Himself,  give  me  the  teacher  who  would 
exclaim  with  the  Apostle,  "  I  determined  not  to  know 
any  thing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  cru- 
cified." 

We  proceed  to  observe,  that,  although  to  the  eye  of 
sense  there  be  nothing  but  shame  about  the  Cross,  yet  a 
spiritual  discernment  perceives  it  to  be  hung  with  the  very 
richest  of  trophies.  You  will  remember  how  St.  Paul 
speaks  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Colossians,  in  what  magnificent 
terms  he  describes  the  achievement  of  the  dying  Re- 
deemer :  "  Blotting  out  the  handwriting  of  ordinances, 
that  was  against  us,  which  was  contrary  to  us,  he  took  it 
out  of  the  way,  nailing  it  to  his  Cross  ;  and,  having  spoiled 
principalities  and  powers,  he  made  a  show  of  them  openly, 
triumphing  over  them  in  it ;"  as  though  he  had  vanquished 
all  the  enemies  of  God  and  of  men,  stripped  them  of 
usurped  sovereignty,  and  fastened  them,  in  the  face  of  the 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  257 

universe,  to  the  Cross  on  which  Himself  hung.     And  what 
was  this  but  the  matter  of  fact  ?     It  is  necessarily  to  be 
admitted,  that,  in  one  point  of  view,  there  was  shame, 
degradation,  ignominy,  in  Christ's  dying  on  the  Cross :  but 
it  is  equally  certain,  that,  in  another,  there  was  honour, 
victory,  triumph.     You  are  all  aware  that  such  was  the 
scheme  of  our  Redemption,  that  "  without  shedding   of 
blood  could  be  no  remission,"  and  that  it  was  made  the  in- 
dispensable condition  of  human  salvation,  that  the  Word, 
when  "  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,"  should  offer  Himself  as 
"  a  sacrifice  for  sin."     And  if  such  were  the  ordained  ar- 
rangements for  human  salvation,  then  it  follows  that  on 
the  Cross  was  achieved  the  mightiest  result  of  which  this 
earth  has  ever  been  the  scene,  and  that  death  was  made 
the  instrument  of  its  own  destruction,  and  of  that  of  the 
great  adversaries  of  God.     We  are  told  that  through  death 
Christ  Jesus  destroyed  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, 
that  is,  the  devil ;  and  that  he  "  made  peace  by  the  blood 
of  his  Cross."     We  know  that,  in  dying,  the  Redeemer 
brake  off  the  yoke  from  the  neck  of  the  human  popula- 
tion, wrenched  from  Satan  the  sceptre  which  he  had  long 
wielded  as  the  god  of  this  world,  and  scattered  the  seeds 
of  immortality  amid  the  dust  of  the  sepulchres.     Might 
not  therefore  an  Apostle  declare  that  Christ  Jesus  spoiled 
principalities  and  powers,  and  made  a  show  of  them  openly, 
triumphing  over  them  in  the  Cross  ? 

I  know  not  whether  he  refers  to  any  exhibition  which 
was  vouchsafed  to  higher  orders  of  being ;  whether  he  is 
to  be  understood  as  affirming  that  there  was  a  vivid  mani- 
festation of  the  triumphs  of  the  Cross,  just  as  though  the 

devil  and  his  apostate  company,  and  death,  and  Hell,  had 
17 


258  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

all  been  made  to  pass  in  procession,  like  captives  at  the 
chariot- wheels  of  their  conqueror,  that  the  inhabitants  of 
the  invisible  world  might  know  how  victorious  had  Christ 
been  in  death.  But,  whatever  the  demonstrations  of  con- 
quest which  may  have  been  granted  to  angels,  we  need 
nothing  but  the  eye  of  faith  in  order  to  our  discerning  on 
the  Cross  the  finest  trophies  which  a  victor  ever  won. 
There,  nailed  with  the  very  nails  by  which  the  feet  and 
hands  of  the  Redeemer  were  pierced,  hangs  the  law  by 
which  all  were  condemned,  but  which  has  now  nothing  to 
lay  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect.  There  are  impaled  those 
principalities  and  powers,  the  originators  and  propagators 
of  evil,  who  leagued  together  to  effect  man's  destruction, 
but  who,  now  that  Christ  has  died,  machinate  in  vain 
against  such  as  have  faith  in  the  Lord  our  Redeemer. 
There  is  fastened  death  itself,  that  great  tyrant  and  de- 
stroyer of  humankind :  for,  in  dying,  Christ  accomplished 
the  noble  prediction,  "  O  death,  I  will  be  thy  plagues ;  O 
grave,  I  will  be  thy  destruction."  There  our  sins  are 
transfixed,  having  been  condemned  in  the  flesh,  because 
borne  in  Christ's  body  on  the  tree,  exhibited  as  capable  of 
forgiveness,  yet  as  objects  of  abhorrence,  inasmuch  as 
nothing  shows  their  enormity  like  that  which  gains  their 
pardon.  And  am  I  then  to  be  ashamed  of  the  Cross  ?  It 
is  to  be  ashamed  of  the  battle-field  on  which  has  been  won 
the  noblest  of  victories,  of  the  engine  by  which  has  been 
vanquished  the  fiercest  of  enemies.  It  is  to  be  ashamed 
of  conquest,  ashamed  of  triumph,  ashamed  of  deliverance. 
Indeed  you  may  tell  me  that  a  result  may  be  glorious,  and 
yet  the  means,  through  which  it  is  effected,  degrading  and 
ignoble.    But  what  is  called  the  shame  is  one  great  element 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  L>f)9 

in  the  glory.  It  would,  comparatively,  have  been  as 
nothing,  that,  as  leader  of  the  celestial  armies,  Christ 
should  have  overthrown  the  foes  of  God  and  of  man — the 
splendid  thing  is,  that  He  "  trod  the  winepress  alone,  and 
that  of  the  people  there  was  with  Him  none."  It  would, 
comparatively,  have  been  as  nothing,  that,  putting  forth 
all  the  might  of  Divinity,  he  should  have  shown  Himself 
superior  to  every  adversary — the  marvellous,  the  amazing 
truth  is,  that  he  met  the  opposing  forces  as  a  man,  a  man 
over  whom  death  was  to  have  power ;  and  that  as  a  man, 
yea,  a  man  in  the  agonies  of  dissolution,  he  discomfited 
every  foe,  and  won  every  trophy.  He  triumphed  by 
being  apparently  defeated  ;  He  vanquished,  by  the  act  of 
yielding  to  an  enemy. 

And  therefore  was  his  death  glorious,  ay,  unspeakably 
more  glorious  than  life,  array  it  how  you  will  with  circum- 
stances of  honour.  To  have  destroyed  death  by  living, 
would  have  been  wonderful:  but  to  have  destroyed  it  by 
dying,  oh,  this  is  the  prodigy  of  prodigies,  the  glory  of 
glories.  This  takes  all  signs  of  infirmity  from  the  wounds 
of  the  Mediator — they  were  the  weapons  with  which  He 
conquered.  This  turns  the  crown  of  thorns  into  a  diadem 
of  splendour;  for  in  being  twined  round  his  brow,  they 
lost  their  power  of  injuring.  This  converts  the  sepulchre 
of  Jesus  into  the  avenue  of  Immortality ;  for,  in  entering 
it,  He  gave  life  to  the  buried,  and  made  sure  the  Resurrec- 
tion of  whatever  hath  been  human.  And  if  all  this  may 
be  affirmed  of  "  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified,"  can  I 
want  any  thing  more  from  a  teacher  who  visits  me  to 
guide  me  to  God  and  Immortality  ?  Must  he  equip  him- 
self  with  the  learning  of  the  schools,  must  he  become 


260  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Leot. 

conversant  with  the  theories  of  philosophy,  or  mnst  he 
frame  apologies  for  what  he  has  to  tell,  as  though  the 
doctrine  of  Christ  crucified  were  not  enough  for  the  sinner, 
or  as  though  it  could  not  fail  to  excite  prejudice?  Nay, 
ye  learned  teachers,  ye  polished  lecturers,  ye  subtile  rea- 
soners,  give  place  to  an  Apostle  who  could  thus  express 
his  fixed  and  earnest  resolution,  "  I  determined  not  to 
know  any  thing  amongst  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified." 

But  we  have  hitherto  scarcely  carried  our  argument  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  Apostle's  assertion.  Not  only  was 
he  determined  to  know  amongst  the  Corinthians  "  Jesus 
Christ,  and  Him  crucified,"  but  he  was  determined  to  know 
nothing  else.  And  if  you  consider  for  a  moment  what 
reason  we  have  to  believe  that  every  blessing  which  we 
enjoy  may  be  traced  to  the  Cross,  you  will  readily  ac- 
knowledge that  St.  Paul  went  no  further  than  he  was 
bound  to  go  as  a  faithful  messenger  of  Christ.  It  is  the 
doctrine  of  Scripture  that  man  forfeited,  through  apostacy, 
whatever  he  possessed  of  good  upon  earth,  as  well  as 
whatever  might  have  been  reserved  for  him  in  another 
state  of  being.  And  the  only  sufficient  reason  to  be  given, 
why  what  had  been  forfeited  was  not  instantly  withdrawn, 
seems  to  be  that  the  intercession  of  Jesus  was  prevalent 
at  the  first  moment  of  transgression,  so  that  immediately 
that  sin  cried  for  vengeance,  the  atoning  blood,  not  then 
shed,  pleaded  for  remission.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  that 
Christ,  by  his  agony  and  passion,  recovered  for  us  the  lost 
Immortality;  we  believe  it  to  be  just  as  true,  that  He 
preserved  for  man  whatever  is  valuable  in'  time,  as  that 
He  regained  for  him  whatever  is  glorious  in  Eternity.     I 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  261 

think  that  we  ought  never  to  look  admiringly  on  the 
magnificence  of  the  landscape,  never  to  gather  in  the 
harvest,  never  to  gladden  ourselves  with  the  charities  of 
home,  never  to  trace  the  workings  of  intellect,  without  as 
distinct  a  feeling  of  obligation  to  Christ,  as  when  we  hear 
how  the  soul  may  be  saved  through  his  blood  and  his 
righteousness.  I  can  say  to  the  man  of  science,  thine 
intellect  was  saved  for  thee  by  the  Cross.  I  can  say  to 
the  father  of  a  family,  the  endearments  of  home  were 
rescued  by  the  Cross.  I  can  say  to  the  admirer  of  nature, 
the  glorious  things  in  the  mighty  panorama  retained  their 
places  through  the  erection  of  the  Cross.  I  can  say  to 
the  ruler  of  an  empire,  the  subordination  of  different 
classes,  the  working  of  society,  the  energies  of  govern- 
ment, are  all  owing  to  the  Cross. 

And  when  the  mind  passes  to  the  consideration  of 
spiritual  benefits,  where  can  you  find  one  not  connected 
with  "  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified  ?"  The  pardon  of 
sin — it  can  be  granted,  because  an  expiation  has  been  made ; 
but  that  expiation  was  made  upon  the  Cross.  The  influ- 
ences of  the  Spirit — they  can  be  vouchsafed,  because  pur- 
chased by  Christ ;  but  the  purchase-money  was  paid  upon 
the  Cross.  Death  may  be  triumphed  over — but  only  be- 
cause Christ  spoiled  it  of  its  sting,  as  He  hung  upon 
the  Cross.  Heaven  may  be  entered — but  only  because, 
through  the  sacrifice  of  the  Cross,  Christ  opened  the  king- 
dom to  all  believers.  Thus,  time  and  eternity,  each  is 
equally  irradiated,  each  equally  filled  with  benediction  by 
the  Cross,  as  though  there  flowed  from  that  which,  to  a 
carnal  eye,  seems  the  emblem  of  shame,  whatever  is  pre- 
cious to  man  as  a  sojourner  on  earth,  whatever  is  needed 


262  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

by  him  as  the  heir  of  immortality.  What  then  do  I  need 
beyond  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross  ?  What  is  there  of  any 
worth  to  me  in  my  immortal  capacity  which  you  can  teach 
me,  that  is  not  derived  from  the  Cross  ?  Then  how  shall 
an  instructor  prepare  himself  for  visiting  the  idolatrous 
Corinthians  ?  Of  course  he  takes  with  him  the  great 
truths  of  the  incarnation  and  atonement ;  but  is  it  neces- 
sary that  he  should  add  to  these  ?  must  he  have  varieties 
to  meet  the  various  tastes  of  his  audience  ?  must  he  be 
prepared  to  back  up  these  truths  by  other  and  collateral 
doctrines,  or  to  illustrate  them  by  curious  analogies  ?  Ah ! 
no — so  true  is  it  that  all  we  have,  and  all  we  hope  for, 
flows  to  us  from  the  Cross,  so  certain  that  every  truth  in 
which  as  immortal  beings  we  are  closely  interested,  is,  in 
some  way,  derived  from  the  Cross,  that  an  Apostle,  not 
because  he  was  narrow-minded,  but  because  he  was  large- 
minded,  not  because  he  wished  to  teach  but  little,  but 
because  he  wished  to  teach  much,  could  exclaim,  "  I  deter- 
mined not  to  know  any  thing  amongst  yon,  save  Jesus 
Christ,  and  Him  crucified." 

But  we  have  yet  another  remark  to  offer.  St.  Paul 
must  have  desired  to  teach  that  doctrine  which  was  best 
adapted  to  the  bringing  the  Corinthians  to  "live  soberly, 
righteously,  and  godly  in  the  world."  If,  therefore,  he 
confined  himself  to  any  one  doctrine,  we  may  be  sure  that 
he  considered  it  the  most  likely  to  be  influential  on  the 
practice,  on  the  turning  sinners  from  the  error  of  their 
ways,  and  making  them  obedient  to  God's  law.  And  what 
doctrine  is  this,  if  not  that  of  "  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified  ?"  In  another  place  St.  Paul  describes  himself  as 
glorying  in  the  Cross,  because  that  by  it  the  "  world  was 


XIII.]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  263 

crucified  unto  him,  and  lie  unto  the  world."  What  are  we 
to  understand  by  this  twofold  crucifixion?  The  world 
was  to  St.  Paul  as  a  crucified  thing ;  and  St.  Paul  was  to 
the  world  as  a  crucified  thing.  They  were  dead  one  to 
the  other.  The  Apostle  regarded  the  world,  with  its 
pomp,  its  show,  its  riches,  its  pleasures,  its  honours,  with 
no  other  feelings  than  he  would  have  regarded  a  male- 
factor fastened  to  a  cross,  and  whose  condition  could 
excite  no  desire  for  participation.  Or,  all  that  the  world 
could  offer  appeared  no  more  attractive  to  St.  Paul  than 
it  would  to  a  man  in  the  act  of  dissolution,  and  who,  sus- 
pended on  a  cross,  would  look  down  with  a  kind  of  insen- 
sibility on  objects  which  before  had  been  precious  in  his 
sight.  Thus  the  world  was  to  the  Apostle  as  a  crucified 
thing ;  or,  to  express  the  same  idea  somewhat  differently, 
the  Apostle  was  to  the  world  as  a  crucified  man  ;  so  that, 
if  you  put  away  the  metaphor,  the  thing  affirmed  is,  that 
St.  Paul  was  completely  "  a  new  creature,"  with  affections 
detached  from  things  below  and  fixed  on  things  above. 

And  he  ascribes  this  change  in  himself  to  the  virtues 
of  the  Cross,  to  "Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified."  And 
justly  might  he  thus  ascribe  it.  It  is  one  of  the  great 
fruits  of  Christ's  passion  and  death,  that  the  renewing 
influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  shed  on  us  abundantly. 
We  read,  that,  when  the  Mediator  ascended  up  on  high 
that  He  might  claim  the  recompense  of  his  humiliation 
and  sufferings,  He  received  gifts  for  men,  yea,  "  even  for 
the  rebellious,  that  the  Lord  God  might  dwell  amongst 
them."  Without  the  descent  of  the  Spirit,  the  work  of 
Redemption  would  have  been  incomplete ;  for  it  is  the 
Spirit   which   takes  of   the    things  of   Christ,  and  shows 


264  ST   PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  [Lect. 

them  to  our  souls.  It  is  the  Spirit  which  applies,  or  makes 
available,  the  finished  work  of  the  Mediator;  so  that, 
though  redeemed,  we  could  not  be  saved  unless  the  Spirit 
convinced  us  of  sin,  wrought  in  us  repentance,  and  enabled 
us  to  believe  in  Jesus  as  our  advocate  with  God.  But,  of 
course,  if  the  Spirit  could  not  have  been  bestowed,  unless 
Christ  had  been  crucified,  we  are  not  more  indebted  to  the 
Cross  for  the  "  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,"  than  for 
that  meetness  for  the  inheritance,  without  which  Heaven 
cannot.be  entered,  nor  enjoyed  if  it  could.  It  is,  there- 
fore, through  the  Cross  that  we  become  new  creatures, 
crucified  to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  us — because  it  is 
through  the  sacrifice  presented  on  the  Cross  that  those 
influences  are  derived  to  us,  without  which  there  can  be 
notliinsr  of  moral  renovation.  And  there  is  more  to  be 
said  than  this.  Would  you  learn  to  desj)ise  the  pomps 
and  vanities  of  the  world,  to  hate  sin,  to  withstand  evil 
lusts  ?  Then  must  you  be  much  on  the  mount  of  Cruci- 
fixion, much  with  Jesus  in  his  last  struggle  with  evil. 
Who  would  yield  to  a  corrupt  passion,  who  would  indulge 
himself  in  unlawful  gratifications,  who  would  hearken  to 
a  base  temptation,  if  his  eye  were  upon  Christ,  "  wounded 
for  our  transgressions,  and  bruised  for  our  iniquities?" 
The  sight  of  Jesus,  pierced  by  and  for  our  sins,  is  the 
great  preservative  against  our  yielding  to  the  pleadings  of 
a  corrupt  nature.  One  glance  at  the  Cross  would  make 
us  pause  in  the  pursuit  of  a  bauble,  bring  confusion  of  face 
at  our  daring  to  be  sensual,  and  fill  us  with  self-reproach 
that  we  could  desire  what  is  perishable. 

The  world  was  one  of  those  trophies  which,  in  his  hour 
of  apparent  defeat,  but  actual  mastery,  Christ  fastened  to 


XIIL]  ST.  PAUL'S  DETERMINATION.  265 

the  tree  on  which  he  hung ;  for,  in  dying,  he  defaced  and 
deformed  the  objects  most  admired  and  coveted  amongst 
men ;  and  the  nails,  with  which  he  was  pierced,  are  still 
those  which  must  be  driven  into  our  passions  and  lusts,  if, 
like  Jael  with  Sisera,  we  would  see  the  enemy  stretched 
dead  at  our  feet.  And  if  we  can  affirm  this  of  the  Cross ; 
and  if  the  Apostle  must  have  desired  to  publish  that 
amongst  the  Corinthians,  which  was  most  likely  to  be 
effectual  in  bringing  them  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous 
light;  can  you  any  longer  wonder  at  the  determination 
announced  in  our  text  ?  We,  too,  will  know  nothing 
"save  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified."  By  nature  we 
are  prisoners,  and  this  teaches  us  how  to  be  free.  We  are 
powerless — this  teaches  us  how  to  gain  strength.  We  are 
doomed  to  eternal  misery — this  teaches  us  how  to  become 
heirs  of  happiness.  To  whom  then  shall  we  go  but  to  Christ 
upon  the  Cross  ?  O  Lord  !  it  is  only  through  Thee,  Thee 
dying,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  I  can  live ;  therefore 
strengthen  me  in  the  determination  to  know  nothing;  but 
Thee,  and  Thee  crucified. 


LECTUKE  XIY. 


?img  nf  3$tos  ntti  tjiB  £amli. 


Ret.  xv.  3 


"  And  they  sing  the  8ong  of  Moses  the  servant  of  God,  and  the  song  of  the  Lamb,  saying, 
Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ;  just  and  true  are  thy  ways, 
thou  King  of  Saints." 

In  the  first  lesson  of  this  morning's  service,  there  has  been 
read  to  you  the  inspired  account  of  those  marvellous 
events,  the  passage  of  the  Israelites  through  the  Red  Sea, 
and  the  destruction  of  Pharaoh  and  all  his  hosts.  It  was 
on  this  occasion,  when  the  Israelites  saw  their  enemies 
lying  dead  on  the  sea-shore,  that  there  was  chanted  that 
lofty  song  of  triumph,  which  is  designated,  in  our  text  as 
"  the  song  of  Moses  the  servant  of  God."  With  the  view 
then  of  associating  our  sermon  with  the  services  of  the 
day,  we  take  a  text  which  represents  as  heard  again,  and 
in  far  different  scenes,  those  exulting  notes  which  floated 
over  waves  in  whose  depths  had  been  whelmed  the  proud 
oppressors  of  God's  ancient  Church.  Before  the  seven 
angels  go  forth  to  "pour  out  the  vials  of  God's  wrath 
upon  the  earth,"  the  Evangelist,  St.  John,  is  cheered  by  a 
vision,  representing  the  joy  and  triumph  of  the  faithful 


THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  AND  THE  LAMB.  267 

followers  of  Christ,  when  their  enemies  shall  have  been 
overthrown,  and  their  deliverance  completed.  He  beholds 
"  a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire,"  and  on  it  stand,  "  with 
the  harps  of  God  in  their  hands,"  those  who  have  gained 
the  victory  over  the  beast,  and  his  image,  and  his  mark. 
As  the  conquerors  stood  on  this  mysterious  sea,  they  sang 
that  song  of  which  our  text  is  a  part,  and  which  is  defined 
by  St.  John,  as  "  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb." 

Without  pretending  to  settle  what  events  may  be  thus 
prophetically  alluded  to,  we  may  safely  consider  our  text 
as  belonging  to  a  glorious  season,  when  Christ  shall  have 
mightily  interfered  on  behalf  of  his  people,  and  swept 
away  those  who  have  resisted  his  authority.  The  song  is 
a  song  of  exultation,  sung  by  the  righteous,  and  called 
forth  by  judgments  which  have  overwhelmed  the  wicked. 
And  whilst  this  is  undeniably  its  character,  we  need  not 
be  very  careful  to  confine  our  observations  to  the  occasion 
on  which  it  was  heard  by  St.  John  :  we  may  safely  extend 
them  to  the  final  estate  of  the  Church,  and  consider  the 
strains,  which  are  swept  from  the  harps  of  God,  as  those 
which  shall  float  through  the  celestial  Temple.  This  being 
premised,  our  text  suggests  two  topics  of  discourse ;  for  it 
gives  what  may  be  called  a  definition  of  the  song  which 
the  triumphant  Church  sings ;  and  it  then  furnishes  us 
with  the  words  of  which  that  song  is  composed.  We 
have,  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  examine  the  name  by 
which  the  song  is  described,  "the  song  of  Moses  the  ser- 
vant of  God,  and  the  song  of  the  Lamb  :"  we  have  then, 
in  the  second  place,  to  consider  the  language  employed, 
"  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ; 
just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  Saints." 


268  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

Now  it  admits  no  dispute,  that,  when  the  song  of  the 
triumphant  Church  is  called,  "  the  song  of  Moses  the  ser- 
vant of  God,"  the  reference  is,  as  we  have  already  stated, 
to  the  chant  of  the  Israelites  and  their  leader,  when  Pha- 
raoh and  his  hosts  had  been  buried  in  the  waters.  And  it 
is  very  observable,  and,  in  some  respects,  almost  mysterious, 
that  it  should  be  this  song  of  Moses  to  which  glorified 
saints  will  strike  their  harps.  The  song  is  one,  not  only  of 
thanksgiving  to  the  Lord,  but  of  exultation  over  the 
wicked,  and  of  rejoicing  in  their  destruction.  Hearken  to 
its  words  as  given  in  the  services  of  the  day  :  "  The  Lord 
is  a  man  of  war,  the  Lord  is  his  name.  Pharaoh's  chariots 
and  his  hosts  hath  he  cast  into  the  sea.  The  depths  have 
covered  them :  they  sank  into  the  bottom  as  a  stone." 
We  hardly  know  a  more  perplexing  truth,  nor  one  which 
more  shows  how  vast  a  change  will  have  passed  over  our 
feelings,  when  we  shall  have  put  on  Immortality,  than  that 
of  our  acquiescing  in  the  punishment  of  the  wicked  ;  yea, 
of  our  approving  that  punishment,  and  magnifying  God 
for  the  vindication  of  his  attributes.  We  cannot  doubt 
the  truth.  We  cannot  question,  that,  as  God  will  hereafter 
gain  honour  from  the  lost  as  well  as  the  redeemed,  those, 
to  whom  God  is  to  be  all  in  all  through  eternity,  and  who 
will  therefore  derive  happiness  from  whatever  contrib- 
utes to  his  glory,  will  find  material  of  thankfulness,  and, 
consequently,  of  joy,  in  the  condemnation  of  the  repro- 
bate, as  well  as  in  their  own  pardon  and  acceptance.  But, 
with  our  present  sensibilities  and  affections,  this  is  quite 
incomprehensible.  The  case  goes  far  beyond  that  of 
Moses  and  the  Israelites,  on  the  shore  of  the  Ked  Sea. 
Even  then  there  must  have  been  the  yearning  of  natural 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  2G9 

sympathy  over  the  mighty  company  that  had  been  buried 
in  the  waters.  We  do  not  believe,  that,  as  the  delivered 
tribes  looked  on  the  immense  grave,  and  thought  on  the 
thousands  over  whom  it  had  suddenly  closed,  they  could 
fail  to  experience,  amid  all  their  rejoicing  and  exultation, 
something  like  anguish  of  feeling,  a  regret  and  sorrow- 
that  the  wickedness  of  their  enemies  had  rendered  needful 
so  tremendous  a  discomfiture.  But  the  Egyptians  were 
the  sworn  foes  of  the  Israelites.  There  were  between 
them  none  of  the  associations  of  kinsmanship ;  and  as  the 
people  of  the  Lord  beheld  the  waters  meeting  in  their 
strength,  and  sepulchring  their  pursuers,  there  were  none 
who  had  to  think  of  a  child  or  a  parent,  or  a  friend,  grap- 
pling in  agony  with  the  irresistible  tide.  Suppose  the  case 
had  been  different,  suppose  that,  in  the  ranks  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, there  had  been  many  linked  by  close  family  ties 
with  the  Israelites — and  who  can  doubt  that  there  would 
have  been  sore  hearts  and  weeping  eyes,  amongst  those 
for  whom  the  Lord  had  wrought  the  great  deliver- 
ance; and  that,  as  Moses  led  the  song  and  Miriam  the 
dance,  some  there  would  have  been,  whose  voices  would 
have  faltered  too  much  to  swell  the  one,  and  whose 
limbs  would  have  trembled  too  much  to  mingle  in  the 
other  ? 

A  nd  yet  we  have  here  only  the  case  which  must  neces- 
sarily be  supposed,  when  all  shall  have  occurred  which 
was  typified  by  the  destruction  of  the  Egyptians.  It  is 
not  merely  that  those,  whom  wrath  overtakes  and  consigns 
to  perdition,  will  be  our  fellow-men,  beings  of  the  same 
race,  and  therefore  linked  with  us  by  most  intimate  asso- 
ciations.    This  were  much  :  for  this  would  seem  enough  to 


270  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

seal  our  lips,  or  cause  lament  to  mingle  with  our  song. 
But  it  must  come  to  pass,  that,  in  variety  of  instances, 
there  will  be  the  division  of  families,  so  that,  whilst  one 
member  is  with  the  Israelites,  another  will  be  with  the 
Egyptians.  And  this  division  must  be  thoroughly  known. 
The  parent,  whose  child  has  not  followed  him  to  Heaven, 
cannot  fail  to  miss  that  child  :  the  child,  who  has  himself 
escaped  the  deluge,  but  whose  parent  has  been  over- 
whelmed by  its  rushings,  must  be  aware  of  the  absence  of 
the  one  he  most  loved.  And  yet  it  is  to  the  song  of 
Moses  that  the  golden  harps  will  in  each  case  be  swept. 
"  Sing  ye  to  the  Lord  ;  for  He  hath  triumphed  gloriously : 
the  horse  and  his  rider  hath  He  thrown  into  the  sea."  We 
must  again  confess,  that,  with  our  present  susceptibilities 
and  affections,  it  is  hard  to  think  that  this  can  ever  come  to 
pass.  If  we  were  to  decide  by  our  feelings,  we  should  be 
disposed  to  believe  that  it  would  introduce  misery  into 
Heaven,  to  allow  knowledge  of  the  misery  of  those  who 
have  been  dear  to  us  on  earth.  But,  nevertheless,  we  can 
be  certain  that  such  will  not  be  the  case.  Knowing,  as  we 
undeniably  do,  that  nothing  which  has  the  least  alliance 
with  sorrow  shall  gain  entrance  into  the  everlasting  city, 
we  cannot  doubt  that  the  happiness  of  saints  will  be  un- 
diminished and  undisturbed,  though  they  should  miss  from 
the  shining  assembly  those  bound  to  them  by  the  most  en- 
dearing relations.  Yea,  we  must  carry  our  persuasion  yet 
further  than  this.  We  must  believe,  that,  with  all  the 
consciousness  that  some  whom  they  tenderly  loved,  have 
earned  for  themselves  a  heritage  of  shame  and  despair,, 
the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  will  feel  how  the  -Divine  attri- 
butes have  been  magnified  in  the  punishment  awarded  to 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  271 

the  impenitent,  and  join  in   praising  their  Maker  for  the 
manifestation  of  his  justice. 

And  this — however  we  may  shrink  and  revolt  from 
what  appears  so  unnatural — this  describes  to  us  what  is 
loftiest  in  Christian  attainment ;  and  what,  therefore,  may 
justly  be  looked  for  in  our  future  state  of  being.  I  know 
that  it  would  be  Christian  perfection  to  have  God  all  in 
all ;  to  make  Him  so  completely  the  centre  of  the  affec- 
tions, or  to  be  so  lost  in  Deity,  as  to  have  no  will  but  his 
will,  and  no  end  but  his  glory.  And  it  is  this  which  we 
are  taught  to  expect,  when  admitted  within  the  veil,  and 
put  into  possession  of  the  incorruptible  inheritance.  We 
are  so  to  find  our  life  and  happiness  in  God,  that  He  will 
be  "  our  strength  and  our  portion  for  ever."  We  are  to 
enter  into  such  communion  with  Him,  so  to  derive  every 
thing  immediately  from  Him,  and  to  devote  every  thing 
entirely  to  Him,  that  it  will  be  his  presence  which  ani- 
mates us,  his  will  which  actuates,  and  his  honour  which 
employs.  And  what  can  better  describe  to  us  this  being 
swallowed  up  in  God,  than  the  announcement  that  the  re- 
deemed, when  the  waves  of  fire  shall  have  rushed  in  their 
resistlessness  over  the  reprobate,  and  the  Almighty  shall 
have  fearfully  vindicated  his  insulted  Sovereignty  in  the 
sight  of  the  universe,  will  chant  a  high  strain  of  praise, 
and  roll  through  the  heavenly  Temple  a  chorus  of  lofty 
exultation  ?  I  know  it  strikes  you  as  though  this  would 
be  impossible.  I  know  there  is  a  feeling  in  your  breasts, 
that,  if  there  be  one  amongst  the  redeemed  who  is  con- 
scious that  the  voices  of  those  whom  he  loved  are  swell- 
ing that  deep  wail  which  rises  from  the  overwhelmed 
throng,  he  at  least  must  be  silent,  whilst  his  companions 


272  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect 

weave  the  song,  and  add  no  note  to  the  magnificent 
melody.  But,  oh,  you  are  calculating  by  what  man  is,  not 
by  what  man  shall  be.  You  fail  to  rise  to  the  greatness 
of  the  thought,  that  God  is  to  be  "  all  in  all"  to  his  crea- 
tures. u  God  all  in  all" — then  I  shall  rejoice  in  whatever 
brings  honour  to  his  name.  This  explains  the  paradox,  this 
removes  the  mystery.  And  you  might  gather  much  of 
imagery  together,  to  delineate  how  man  shall  be  so  devoted 
to  God  as  to  surrender  every  feeling  which  opposes  the 
consecration ;  but  nothing  could  outdo  the  vigour  and 
vividness  of  the  picture,  which  fetches  its  illustrations  from 
the  Red  Sea's  shore.  You  might  catch  the  echoes  of  celes- 
tial minstrelsy,  and  give  us  fragments  of  those  glorious 
hymns,  which,  floating  on  unearthly  music,  penetrate  the 
mysterious  solitudes  of  Deity,  and  fill  them  with  celebra- 
tions of  the  universal  Father.  But  if  you  are  to  tell  us 
how  the  human  shall  be  absorbed  in  the  Divine ;  how  the 
creature  will  have  out-grown  all  the  feebleness  and  selfish- 
ness of  this  finite  estate,  and  live,  and  move,  and  have  hk 
being  in  the  Creator  ;  if  you  would  describe  those  stately, 
yet  ardent,  affections  which  can  find  their  counterpart  ob- 
jects in  Deity  alone,  but  which  find  them  in  Him  unlimit- 
edly  and  everlastingly — oh,  then  you  have  said  as  much  as 
our  capacities  can  grasp,  nay,  more  than  suffices  to  fill  them 
in  their  utmost  stretch,  when  you  have  simply  quoted  the 
assertion  of  our  text.  For  it  is  not  the  mighty  melody 
which  swells  and  soars,  when  the  heavenly  hosts  bow  down 
in  adoration  of  the  Lord ;  and  it  is  not  the  liquid  poetry, 
wherewith  they  tell  his  beauty  and  his  grace;  it  is  not  this 
which  can  show  me  the  mastery  won  over  nlortal  passion, 
and  the  deep,  engrossing,  burning  love  of  the  Almighty. 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  273 

But  this  indeed  is  shown  me,  so  that  imagination  itself  is 
distanced,  when  you  have  bidden  me  listen  to  a  song  which 
is  heard,  clear  and  distinct,  above  the  last  crash  of  dis- 
jointed systems,  and  the  cry  of  despairing  multitudes ;  and 
have  told  me  that  this  song  is  from  the  lips  and  the  harps 
of  those  who  have  been  gathered  from  our  earth  into  the 
celestial  Church ;  and  have  added,  that  the  song  is  none 
other  than  that  of  the  Israelites  over  the  Egyptians,  whom 
the  waters  had  entombed,  "  the  song  of  Moses,  the  servant 
of  the  Lord." 

We  proceed  to  observe  that  the  song  of  the  tri- 
umphant Church  is  described,  not  only  as  the  song  of 
Moses,  but  as  that  also  of  the  Lamb.  "  They  sang  the 
song  of  Moses,  the  servant  of  God,  and  of  the  Lamb." 
Now  we  may  be  said  to  feel  more  at  home  with  the  song 
of  the  Lamb,  than  with  that  of  Moses ;  for  this  is  a  song, 
of  which,  even  now,  we  can  strike  some  notes ;  whereas, 
we  look  on  that  of  Moses  with  a  kind  of  awe  and  dread, 
as  though  it  were  not  suited  to  such  minstrelsy  as  ours. 
The  song  of  the  Lamb,  which  the  Evangelist  heard,  may 
be  considered  as  that  new  song,  which  is  given  in  other 
parts  of  the  book  of  Revelation,  and  the  burden  of  which 
is  the  worthiness  of  the  Mediator.  The  "  thousand  times 
ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands,"  who  are  round 
about  the  throne,  were  heard  by  St.  John,  saying  with  a 
loud  voice,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive 
power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honour, 
and  glory,  and  blessing."  This,  or  something  similar  to 
this,  was  the  strain  which  mingled  with  that  of  lofty 
exultation,  as  the  Church  beheld  its  overthrown  enemies 

And  if,  therefore,  the   song   of  Moses  were    one   which 
18 


274  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

showed  such  subjection  or  refinement  of  human  feelings, 
as  is  almost  unintelligible,  at  least  the  song  of  the  Lamb 
is  in  thorough  harmony  with  what  is  now  felt  and  chanted 
by  believers.  It  is  the  song  of  grateful  confession  that  we 
owe  every  thing  to  the  Redeemer,  and  that  his  blood  and 
righteousness  have  been  the  alone  procuring  causes  of 
deliverance  from  ruin,  and  a  title  to  immortality. 

And  there  is  vast  beauty  in  the  retention  of  the  name 
of  the  Lamb  in  the  melodies  of  Heaven.  You  might  have 
thought,  that,  so  soon  as  the  conflict  and  the  ignominy 
were  over,  all  memory,  or,  at  least,  all  trace  of  them  would 
have  been  removed ;  and  that,  as  the  Redeemer  went  to  and 
fro  amid  the  throng  of  his  admiring  saints,  there  would  be 
nothing  to  remind  them  that  He  had  been  "  the  man  of 
sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief."  But  the  very  re- 
verse of  this  is  proved  from  the  descriptions  of  the  book 
of  Revelation.  When  St.  John  beheld  the  Mediator 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  and  of  the  four 
beasts,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  elders,  the  aspect  under 
which  He  appeared,  was  that  of  "  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been 
slain."  Strange  that  the  imagery  of  death  should  be 
preserved  amid  scenes  where  death  cannot  enter.  Yet, 
why  strange  ?  Can  we  marvel  that  the  Saviour  should 
retain  the  prints  of  the  nails,  and  appear,  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  as  the  crucified  and  the  glorified  ?  It  was  as 
the  Lamb  that  He  overthrew  principalities  and  powers. 
It  was  as  the  Lamb  that  He  defeated  the  machinations  of 
Satan,  and  restored  to  its  lost  place  a  fallen  creation.  It 
was  as  the  Lamb  that  he  exhausted  the  curse  which 
disobedience  had  provoked,  and  opened  the  graves,  and 
bade   the  buried  come   forth.     And    the  wounds    which 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  275 

this  Lanib  received,  what  were  they  but  the  very  weapons 
with  which  He  conquered?  "Through  death  He  de- 
stroyed him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is,  the 
devil."  He  vanquished  by  dying,  He  triumphed  by 
falling.  O  surpassingly  strange,  as  well  as  surpassingly 
vast,  a  victory,  in  which  the  conquest  was  won  through 
apparent  defeat,  and  the  foe  subdued  through  yielding  to 
his  power.  Death  died  in  killing  Christ,  and  the  grave 
lost  its  sovereignty  by  reigning  over  the  Lamb.  Were  not 
then  the  wounds  of  the  Redeemer  the  arms  with  which 
He  mastered  the  enemies  of  God  ?  and  what  are  they  now 
but  trophies  of  the  unmeasured  achievement  ?  To  appear 
therefore  as  the  Lamb,  "  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain,"  in 
the  midst  of  all  the  magnificence  of  the  everlasting  city, 
is  to  appear  as  the  mighty  conqueror,  who  led  captivity 
captive.  You  might  array  Him  with  the  insignia  of  uni- 
versal authority,  and  sweep  away  every  mark  of  humilia- 
tion and  pain,  but  if  He  is  to  stand  in  the  assembly  of 
the  saints,  manifesting  Himself  as  the  vanquisher  of  evil, 
wearing  the  spoils  which  He  brought  from  the  battle,  clad 
in  the  robes  of  the  champion  of  God  and  man,  then  He 
must  appear  with  the  mementos  of  Calvary,  his  crown  the 
crown  of  thorns,  though  each  thorn  be  a  sparkle  of  the 
effulgence  of  Deity,  and  his  sceptre  his  own  cross,  though 
so  burning  with  lustre  that  it  lights  up  the  whole  expanse 
of  the  Mediatorial  kingdom. 

And  if  it  be  as  the  Lamb  that  Christ  is  most  glorious, 
what  but  the  song  of  the  Lamb  shall  be  most  on  the  lips 
of  those  for  whom  he  died  ?  If  now  we  would  sing  the 
praises  of  our  Lord,  and  pour  forth  our  gratitude  for  what 
He  hath  done,  we  ask  a  hymn,  which  tells  us  of  his  mar- 


276  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

vellous   condescension  in  assuming   our   nature,  and  into 
whose  verses  is  woven  the  mysterious  record  of  his  agony 
and  passion.     At  times  indeed  we  take  other  strains  :  we 
celebrate  our  Kedeemer  as  from  everlasting  and  to  ever- 
lasting, the  Almighty  One  by  whom  the  worlds  were  made, 
and  "  in  whose  hands  is  the  soul  of  every  living  thing." 
But  if  the  heart  is  to  be  thoroughly  warmed,  there  must 
be  redemption  in  the  anthem.      The    Architect   of  this 
mighty  creation — it  is  a  noble  theme,  and  asks  a  mighty 
melody.     The  substitute  for  sinners,  the  Deliverer  of  man 
from  unimagined  misery — this  is  the  touching  theme,  and 
both  asks  and  wakes  the  music  of  the  soul.     And  it  shall 
be  the  same  hereafter,  only   in  far  higher  degree.     We 
doubt  not  there  will  be  many  and  various  hymns  chanted 
in  the  celestial  temple.     Archangel  to  angel,  cherubim  to 
seraphim,  and  man  to  man,  will  roll  sublime  choruses,  such 
as    our   speech    cannot    now   embody,    nor   our   thought 
embrace.     But  one  hymn  there  will  be,  which  shall  be 
peculiar  to  men.     One  anthem  shall  be  heard  in  which 
none  but  those  who  were  once  ready  to  perish  will  be 
able  to  join,  but  which  their  voices  will  never  be  weary 
of  uttering.     "  Thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to 
God  by  thy  blood  out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and 
people,  and  nation."     It  will  not  be  from  an  angel's  lips 
that  this  anthem  will  issue.     The  angel  never  knew  the 
wretchedness   of  being  a  fallen  creature,  and,  therefore, 
cannot  know  the  thankfulness  of  a  redeemed.     But  men 
— those  who  had  rebelled,  and  been  the  enemies  of  God ; 
those  who  had  been  on  the  brink  of  perdition,  and  who 
nevertheless    have    been    raised    to    glory,  and    immor- 
tality— men  will  dwell  with  ecstacy  on  the  achievement 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  211 

of  the  Lamb,  and  weave  that  blessed  name  into  their 
loftiest  measure,  and  shrine  it  in  theL  sweetest  harmony. 
Men  may  join  in  angels'  hymns ;  for  theirs,  too,  will  be 
the  enraptured  admiration  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  and 
theirs  the  tribute  of  high-wrought  acknowledgment,  as 
Deity  manifests  his  wonderfulness,  and  shows  another 
height,  or  another  depth,  of  that  which,  through  eternity, 
will  still  be  unsearchable.  But  angels  can  take,  compara- 
tively, no  part  in  this  song  of  the  Lamb.  Indeed,  as  the 
triumphant  Church  pours  forth  its  praises,  angels  may, 
and  we  are  told,  they  will,  chime  in  with  the  thrilling 
notes,  and  strike  to  the  same  ascriptions  their  instruments 
of  music.  But  the  burst  of  gratitude,  the  rush  of  thank- 
ful confession,  the  devotedness  of  soul  breathed  into  the 
swelling  peal — these  require  a  personal  interest  in  the 
sacrifice  of  the  Lamb ;  and  those  only  who  can  say,  He 
died  for  us,  will  be  able  to  throw  themselves,  as  it  were, 
into  the  anthem,  "  Worthy  the  Lamb  that  was  slain." 

And  thus,  if  it  somewhat  perplexed  us  to  find  that  the 
song  of  Moses  shall  be  sung  by  the  Church ;  if  it  seemed 
like  divesting  that  Church  of  the  sympathies  of  humanity ; 
we  can,  at  least,  have  fellowship  with  the  minstrelsy  of 
Heaven,  now  that  we  hear  of  another  song,  and  that  the 
song  of  the  Lamb.  We  may  feel  as  though  our  hearts 
must  be  fresh  strung,  and  our  voices  tuned,  ere  we  can  rise 
to  the  awful  gladness  of  that  chant  which  is  to  commemo- 
rate how  the  Lord  hath  beaten  down  his  foes.  There  may 
be  kinsmen  amongst  those  foes,  our  friends,  our  children — 
and  nature  would  now  prompt  us  to  the  low  and  melan- 
choly dirge,  rather  than  to  the  choral  ode  of  such  as 
exult  and  are  thankful.     But  "the  Song  of  the  Lamb" — 


278  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

we  seem  to  know  that  strain  :  they  are  familiar  notes  ;  and 
the  melody  with  which  the  celestial  temple  rings  is  already 
echoed,  though  feebly  and  faintly,  from  the  courts  of  the 
earthly.  And  the  combination  of  song,  the  blending  of 
the  Song  of  the  Lamb  with  the  Song  of  Moses,  this  as- 
sures me  that  the  redeemed,  though  freed  from  all  that  is 
weak  and  imperfect,  and  made  equal  to  the  angels  in  com- 
pleteness of  consecration  to  God,  will  retain  the  warm  and 
yearning  affections  which  now  belong  to  their  nature.  The 
song  that  was  heard  on  the  Red  Sea's  shore,  when  the 
Egyptians  had  sunk  like  lead  in  the  waters — had  this  alone 
been  swept  from  the  golden  harps  of  saints,  I  might  have 
thought  that  these  saints  had  ceased  to  be  men,  and  were 
no  longer  accessible  to  emotions  by  which  they  had  been 
stirred  whilst  on  earth.  But  when  I  hear  further  of  a  song 
of  thanksgiving  for  mercies  which  are  now  the  foremost  in 
Christian  celebration,  then  I  learn  that,  though  sublimely 
exalted,  the  saints  are  still  men  :  their  hearts  are  throbbing 
with  the  same  gratitude  as  ours,  and  we  can  have  com- 
panionship with  them,  and  feel  them  still  brothers.  Yes, 
it  might  induce  the  suspicion  that  all  remembrance  of 
earth  had  been  erased,  and  man  nerved  into  a  stern  and 
strange  superiority  to  all  human  feeling,  to  hear  of  his  ex- 
ulting in  the  song  of  Moses  over  the  lost  ones  of  his  race  ; 
but  it  is  like  bringing  him  back  into  association  with  our- 
selves— for  David  could  sing  of  mercy  and  judgment — to 
give  as  the  full  description  of  the  glorified  Church,  "  They 
sing  the  song  of  Moses,  the  servant  of  God,  and  the  song 
the  Lamb." 

"  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord   God  Al- 
mighty, just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  Thou  King  of  Saints." 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  279 

Such  is  a  portion  of  the  lofty  anthein.  To  take  this  an- 
them in  its  largest  application,  we  may  say  that  it  cele- 
brates the  greatness  and  the  justice  of  God,  as  displayed 
in  the  occurrences  of  the  judgment  day.  And  it  is  well 
worth  your  attention,  that  these  two  characteristics  shall 
be  finally  declared  to  have  distinguished  the  whole  business 
of  the  judgment.  It  will  be  a  great  and  marvellous  work, 
when  the  tares  shall  have  been  separated  from  the  wheat, 
all  unrighteousness  detected  and  exposed,  the  wicked 
banished,  and  the  faithful  exalted.  The  spectacle  has 
never  yet  been  presented  to  the  inhabitants  of  this  earth 
so  fraught  with  the  manifestations  of  Omnipotence  as  shall 
be  that  of  the  general  judgment.  What  display  of  power 
can  equal  that  which  will  be  given  by  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead,  bone  coming  to  bone,  the  assembling  into  the 
same  identical  bodies  of  particles  which  have  been  scat- 
tered to  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  so  that  the  sea,  and  the 
mountain,  and  the  desert,  surrender  each  its  portion  of 
human  elements  ?  And  if  the  gathering  together  of  the 
buried  generations,  reconstructed  and  reanimated,  be  the 
mightiest  imaginable  display  of  God's  power  over  matter, 
what  shall  more  declare  his  power  over  mind  than  that 
laying  bare  of  all  the  secrets  of  men's  hearts,  on  which 
the  last  sentences  shall  be  founded,  and  by  which  they 
will  be  justified  ?  Then  you  must  add  the  portents  and 
signs  which  are  to  herald  the  Judge;  the  battalions  of 
the  heavenly  hosts  which  are  to  line  the  firmament ;  the 
consternation  and  trembling  which  are  to  seize  on  all 
who  have  been  enemies  of  Christ ;  the  chastened  gladness 
and  confidence  which  those  will  display  who  feel  that  He 
who  sits  upon  the  throne  died  for  them  on  the  cross — in 


280  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lkct. 

all  this  there  will  be  the  amazing  power  of  God :  I  hear 
that  power  in  the  trumpet  and  the  thunder :  that  power  it 
is  which  is  casting  down  the  stout-hearted:  I  read  that 
power  in  the  tranquillity  of  the  righteous :  the  storm  and 
the  calm  alike  proclaim  that  Omnipotence  is  there. 

You  cannot,  then,  wonder  at  the  language  of  the  an- 
them. You  cannot  fail  to  acknowledge,  even  with  the 
little  which  can  yet  be  ascertained  of  the  solemn  and  tre- 
mendous things  of  the  judgment,  that,  if  ever  confession 
were  extorted  of  the  almightiness  of  the  Lord,  it  will  be 
when  the  white  throne  has  been  set,  and  the  books  have 
been  opened,  and  the  dead,  small  and  great,  have  received 
their  portions  for  eternity.  We  may  have  none  but  most 
inadequate  notions  of  what  shall  be  seen  and  heard  when 
God  holds  his  great  assize  in  the  face  of  the  universe,  and 
gives  scope  to  each  enactment  of  a  retributive  economy. 
But  if  the  company  of  the  redeemed,  of  those  who  have 
been  acquitted,  and  accepted,  and  appointed  to  a  glorious 
inheritance,  are  to  stand  "  on  a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with 
fire" — yes,  "  a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire,"  for  even  the 
righteous  will  only  be  "  scarcely  saved,"  so  that  safety  it- 
self will  look  perilous — and  if  they  are  to  take  into  their 
hands  the  harps  of  God,  that  they  may  pass  with  music 
and  a  song  through  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city,  I  can 
feel  that,  as  they  behold  the  desolations  which  have  been 
wrought,  and  think  how  the  arm  and  the  breath  of  the 
Lord  have  done  valiantly,  congregating  the  millions  of 
human  kind,  and  animating,  and  dividing  them — and  all 
this  amid  the  tremblings  and  heavings  of  creation — oh,  I 
say,  I  can  feel  that  the  delivered  company,  oh  their  glassy 
and  fiery  sea,  will  entertain  a  sense,  such  as  they  never  be- 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  281 

fore  had,  of  what  Omnipotence  is,  and  what  Omnipotence 
can  do ;  and  that,  therefore,  moved  by  one  impulse,  every 
hand  will  strike  the  lyre,  and  every  tongue  add  its  peal  to 
the  chorus  of  our  text,  "  Great  and  marvellous  are  Thy 
works,  Lord  God  Almighty  !" 

But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  chorus — the  Church 
affirms  God's  ways  to  be  just  and  true,  as  well  as  his  works 
to  be  great  and  marvellous.  And  this  is  a  most  important 
assertion,  when  considered  as  called  forth  by  the  transac- 
tions of  the  judgment.  The  judgment  will  include  within 
its  searchings  and  its  sentences  the  heathen  world  as  well 
as  the  Christian,  men  who  have  had  none  but  the  scantiest 
portion  of  revelation,  and  others  who  have  been  blessed 
with  its  fulness.  And  even  in  a  Christian  community 
there  is  the  widest  difference  between  the  means  and 
opportunities  afforded  to  different,  men,  some  being  only 
just  within  sound  of  the  Gospel,  and  others  continu- 
ally plied  with  its  messages.  But  all  this  invests  with 
great  difficulties  the  business  of  judgment.  It  shows  that 
there  must  be  various  standards,  one  standard  for  the 
heathen,  and  another  for  the  Christian ;  one  for  this  hea- 
then, or  this  Christian,  another  for  that.  And  there  is 
something  overwhelming  in  the  thought  that  the  untold 
millions  of  the  human  population  will  undergo  an  individ- 
ual scrutiny ;  that  they  will  come,  man  by  man,  to  the 
bar  of  their  God,  and  each  be  tried  by  his  own  privileges 
and  powers.  We  can  hardly  put  from  us  the  feeling,  that, 
in  so  enormous  an  assize,  there  will  be  cases  comparatively 
overlooked,  for  which  due  allowance  is  not  made,  or  in 
which  the  sentence  is  not  founded  on  a  full  estimate  of  the 
circumstances.     But,  whatever  our  doubts  and  suspicious 


282  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  [Lect. 

beforehand,  "  Just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of 
Saints,"  is  the  confession,  you  observe,  which  will  follow  the 
judgment.  It  is  a  confession,  we  are  bold  to  say,  in  which 
the  lost  will  join  with  the  redeemed.  The  feeling  in  every 
condemned  man  shall  be,  that,  had  there  been  none  but 
himself  to  be  tried,  his  case  could  not  have  received  a 
more  patient  attention,  or  a  more  equitable  decision. 

And  we  rejoice  in  hearing  the  chorus  which  is  chanted 
on  the  glassy  aud  fiery  sea.  It  tells  us  that  God  will 
be  justified  when  He  speaks,  and  clear  when  He  judgeth. 
As  yet  I  know  nothing,  whatever  I  may  conjecture,  as  to 
the  future  and  eternal  condition  of  the  heathen.  I  cannot 
tell  how  the  subjects  of  wholly  different  dispensations  are 
to  be  brought  to  the  same  bar,  and  tried  by  a  Judge  of 
whom  thousands  amongst  them  never  heard  as  a  Mediator. 
But  I  learn  from  the  anthem  of  the  Church,  that,  in  being 
carried  on  and  completed,  the  last  judgment  will  free  itself 
from  all  difficulty  and  all  mystery.  The  thorough  justice  of 
the  whole  proceedings  will  commend  itself  at  once  to  every 
observer  :  the  condemned  will  be  speechless,  silence  being 
their  most  expressive  confession ;  the  approved  will  weave 
their  admiration  of  the  equity  into  the  same  song  with 
that  of  the  omnipotence  which  their  God  had  displayed. 
We  can  be  certain,  therefore,  that,  as  the  righteous  go 
away  into  everlasting  life,  they  will  carry  with  them  a 
triumphant  assurance  that  the  Divine  dealings  with  our 
race  have,  all  along,  done  honour  to  the  Divine  attributes. 
The  great  white  throne  will  have  been  as  a  sun  which  hath 
scattered  all  darkness,  and  shed  a  brilliant  illumination 
over  the  vast  maps  of  providence  and  grace.  '  For  our  own 
part,  therefore,  what  have  we  to  do  but  meekly  to  work 


XIV.]  AND  THE  LAMB.  283 

out  salvation,  not  perplexing  ourselves  with  mysteries  too 
deep  for  our  present  penetration,  but  only  striving  that  we 
may  be  accepted  at  the  judgment;  knowing  that  then 
every  cloud  will  be  scattered,  and  that,  so  overpowering 
will  have  been  the  demonstration,  on  which  we  shall  have 
gazed,  of  the  invariable  justice,  and  the  immutable  faith- 
fulness, of  the  Lord,  that,  no  sooner  shall  we  have  received 
the  harps  of  God  than  we  shall  strike  them  in  celebration 
of  the  equity  and  truth  of  all  his  ways,  "  Just  and  true 
are  thy  ways,  O  King  of  Saints.'- 

We  have  supposed  our  text  uttered  immediately  after 
the  last  judgment.  No  doubt  it  strictly  belongs  to  an 
earlier  time,  when  plagues,  analogous,  to  those  which  deso- 
lated Egypt,  shall  fall  upon  the  earth,  and  the  great  Anti- 
Christian  power,  which  Pharaoh  may  have  typified,  shall 
be  consumed  by  the  might  of  the  Lord.  But  as,  at  least, 
the  text  refers  to  a  season  when  Christ  shall  have  inter- 
fered on  behalf  of  his  people,  and  swept  away  those  who 
have  resisted  his  authority,  there  can  be  nothing  wrong  in 
extending  it  to  the  last  great  interference,  the  final  discom- 
fiture of  all  the  hosts  of  unrighteousness.  And  the  prac- 
tical thing  to  be  borne  in  mind,  is,  that  even  now  we  stand 
on  a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire.  A  sea  of  glass — for 
we  have  no  firm  footing,  and,  if  we  walk  not  circumspectly, 
are  certain  to  fall :  of  glass  mingled  with  fire ;  for  if  we 
fall,  the  surface  may  give  way,  and  we  are  plunged  into 
everlasting  burnings.  But  if  it  be  a  sea,  on  which  we 
shall  hereafter  stand,  this  may  denote  the  boundlessness  of 
our  existence,  the  depth  of  our  knowledge.  The  sea  may 
be  of  glass,  for  the  floor  of  heaven  may  serve  as  a  mirror, 
reflecting  the  majesties  of  God.     There  may  be  fire  min- 


284  THE  SONG  OF  MOSES  AND  THE  LAMB. 

gled  with  the  glass,  to  tell  us,  that,  as  fast  as  the  mirror 
shows  us  more  of  God,  there  will  be  kindled  within  us 
a  more  intense  flame  of  love  and  admiration.  You  must 
long  to  walk  such  a  sea  as  this,  to  join  the  orchestra  from 
which  shall  proceed  the  sublime  song  of  Moses  and  the 
Lamb.  Then  let  all  be  earnest  in  obeying  the  precepts, 
and  appropriating  by  faith  the  merits  of  that  Redeemer 
who  is  hereafter  to  be  our  judge.  There  is  room  for  all 
on  that  mysterious  sea;  there  are  harps  for  all  in  that 
mighty  orchestra.  And,  God  helping,  we  may  yet  all 
escape  the  wrath  to  come,  and  when  the  earth  and  heavens 
flee  away  from  the  face  of  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne, 
be  found  amongst  those  who  shall  exult  and  give  thanks, 
and  enter  with  melodious  measures  the  kingdom  prepared 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 


LECTURE  XV. 


€§t  Wwm  jDnng-Buffrring. 


2  Peter  iii  9. 


"  The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  bis  promise,  as  some  men  count  slackness ;  but  is  long- 
suffering  to  us-ward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to 
repentance." 

The  Apostle  is  here  arguing  against  the  scoffers,  who,  as 
he  tells  us,  will  arise  in  the  last  days  of  this  creation,  and 
who,  reasoning  from  the  unbroken  course  and  order  of  na- 
ture, will  perversely  conclude  that  no  such  change  can  be 
approaching  as  that  which  prophecy  associates  with  the 
second  advent  of  Christ.  "  Where,"  say  they,  "  is  the 
promise  of  his  coming  ?  for  since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all 
things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation."  It  is  not  our  purpose,  on  the  present  occasion, 
to  go  into  the  statements  by  which  the  Apostle  refutes  the 
infidel  argument.  We  know  well  enough  that  the  un- 
broken continuance  of  the  present  economy  is  no  proof 
that  the  Lord  will  not  come  forth  from  his  place  in  maj- 
esty and  terror ;  and  we  have  the  sure  word  of  j)rophecy, 
that  "  the  Heavens  and  the  earth,  which  are  now,  are 
reserved  unto  fire,  against  the  day  of  judgment  and  perdi- 


286  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

tion  of  ungodly  men."  We  are  satisfied  with  the  assur- 
ance that  "  the  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise  ;" 
and  we  only  pray  that  we  may  be  of  those  who  are  look- 
ing for  Christ ;  seeing  that  it  is  unto  "  them  that  look  for 
Him  that  He  shall  appear  the  second  time  without  sin 
unto  salvation." 

But  there  is  a  peculiarity  in  our  text  on  which  we  wish 
to  fasten,  and  which  will  furnish,  as  we  think,  a  most  inter- 
esting subject  of  discourse.  Immediately  after  asserting 
that  there  is  nothing  with  God  of  what  men  count  slack- 
ness, the  Apostle  gives  a  reference  to  the  Divine  patience 
or  long-suffering.  Now,  suppose  I  were  one  of  these  scoff- 
ers, what  should  I  be  most  inclined  to  doubt,  from  ob- 
serving that  God's  threatenings  did  not  take  effect  ?  I 
suppose,  the  power  of  God.  I  should  be  inclined  to  say, 
God  has  threatened  what  He  is  not  able  to  perform  :  hence 
the  reason  why  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  will  rise  and  set  in 
their  appointed  order,  why  there  hath  come  nothing  of  the 
menaced  dislocation  of  the  whole  material  system.  The 
power  is  wanting.  Well,  if  this  were  my  way  of  arguing, 
would  it  be  any  answer  to  me  to  say,  "  The  Lord  is  long- 
suffering  to  us-ward  ?"  Yes,  indeed  it  would  ;  there  is  no 
proof  of  the  Divine  power  so  great  as  the  Divine  long- 
suffering.  This,  my  brethren,  is  what  we  design  to  en- 
deavour to  establish.  How  beautifully  does  one  of  our 
Church  Collects  express  this  truth,  "  O  God,  who  declarest 
thy  Almighty  power  most  chiefly  in  showing  mercy  and 
pity."  And  when  the  spies  had  brought  back  an  evil  re- 
port of  the  promised  land,  and  Moses  pleaded  with  God  as 
a  man  would  plead  for  his  children,  you  rtfay  remember 
that  he  said,  "And  now  I  beseech  thee,  let  the  power  of 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  287 

my  Lord  be  great,  according  as  thou  hast  spoken,  saying, 
The  Lord  is  long-suffering  and  of  great  mercy."  The  idea 
of  Moses,  as  gathered  from  these  words,  would  seem  to 
have  been,  that  God  would  then  show  Himself  most  pow- 
erful when  He  showed  Himself  most  long-suffering.  You 
are  thus  put  in  possession  of  the  principle  which  we  wish 
to  establish,  and  from  which  we  would  illustrate  the  words 
of  our  text.  It  is  simply  the  principle,  that  God's  patience 
is  the  greatest  possible  demonstration  of  God's  power. 
Let  then  the  scoffer  approach  in  his  hardihood.  He  will 
not  believe  that  the  earth  shall  be  burned  up ;  that  the 
sun  shall  become  black  as  sackcloth  of  hair,  the  moon  be 
turned  into  blood,  and  the  stars  fall  from  the  Heavens ;  all 
this,  he  says,  may  have  been  long  ago  threatened,  but 
nothing  has  come  to  pass  ;  surely  then  God  is  not  able  to 
accomplish  his  word ;  ah,  say  not  so,  exclaims  the  Apostle : 
"  The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise,  as  some 
men  count  slackness :"  and  in  proof  that  his  power  is  not 
deficient,  I  tell  you  that  He  "  is  long-suftering  to  us-ward, 
not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come 
to  repentance." 

Now  before  beginning  to  prove  to  you  that  the  long- 
suffering  is  the  great  proof  of  the  power  of  God,  we  would 
observe  that  this  idea  is  at  variance  with  those  most  com- 
monly entertained ;  at  least,  if  not  at  variance,  a  mere  cur- 
sory glance  will  not  show  it  in  harmony.  We  have  only 
to  make  mention  of  the  power  of  God,  and  the  thoughts 
are  instantly  far  away  amid  the  fields  of  immensity,  busy- 
ing themselves  with  the  accumulations  of  the  workings  of 
Almightiness,  star  upon  star,  and  system  upon  system.  It 
is  our  ordinary  method,  in  our  endeavours  to  exhibit  this 


288  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

power,  to  bid  the  mind  go  and  travel  through  the  wonders 
of  materialism.  We  strive  to  fix  the  attention  on  that 
mysterious  period,  when  as  yet  there  was  loneliness  through- 
out unbounded  space,  and  the  melodies  of  the  Creator's 
goings  forth  alone  brake  the  silences  of  Eternity.  We 
then  bid  the  ear  hearken  to  the  utterance  of  a  creative 
command,  and  the  eye  look  forth  on  what  just  before  had 
been  one  vast  void ;  and  as  the  countless  company  of  glo- 
rious worlds  start  into  being,  we  require  the  spectator  to 
fall  prostrate,  and  to  worship  God  under  the  name  of 
Omnipotent.  And  from  the  fact  of  creation  we  pass  on 
to  that  of  preservation.  We  tell  you  that  the  enormous 
and  complicated  machinery  of  the  universe  is  superin- 
tended and  upheld  by  God;  that  there  is  not  a  single 
wheel,  in  all  the  inscrutable  combinations,  which  is  not 
made  to  revolve  by  his  pervading  energies  ;  and  that  the 
very  weakest  and  meanest  amongst  those  tribes  of  living 
things,  whose  number  puts  to  shame  all  finite  arithmetic, 
is  so  dependent  for  the  existence  of  each  moment  on  the 
Author  of  its  being,  that  to  suppose  it  overlooked  or  for- 
gotten is  to  suppose  it,  on  the  instant,  paralyzed  or  extin- 
guished. 

And  far  be  it  from  us  to  imply  that  such  a  method  of 
demonstrating  the  power  of  God  is  other  than  correct.  It 
were  well  if  familiarity  with  the  wonders  of  the  visible 
universe  did  not  produce  in  us  apathy  to  the  impressions 
which  they  are  calculated  to  make.  If  the  creation  around 
us  exerted  over  us  its  legitimate  influence,  practical,  as 
well  as  professed,  infidelity  would  be  banished  from  the 
earth ;  the  necessary  consequence  on  our  continually  recog- 
nising the  might  of  Jehovah,  in  the  various  objects  of  the 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  289 

encompassing  scenery,  must  be  that  our  cities  and  villages 
would  be  wholly  possessed  by  an  awe-struck  and  God-fear- 
ing population.  But  it  would  appear  to  be  possible,  that, 
whilst  searching  through  the  universe  for  evidences  of  the 
power  of  God,  we  may  pass  by  a  more  signal  demonstration 
lying  individually  in  ourselves.  We  speak  not  of  the  tes- 
timony which  is  undoubtedly  given  by  the  construction  of 
our  bodies,  and  by  the  surprising  manner  in  which  the  ma- 
terial encloses  the  immaterial.  We  are  indeed  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made  ;  and  if  a  man  be  not  hardened 
against  proof,  it  will  be  enough,  when  debate  turns  on  the 
power  of  God,  to  send  him  to  himself,  and  he  must  own 
Him  omnipotent.  But  there  may  be  an  evidence  which  is 
still  more  overpowering ;  and  that,  too,  an  evidence  which 
each  may  fetch  from  his  own  experience,  and  his  own  his- 
tory. Towards  each  of  us  there  has  been  the  exercise  of 
long-suffering  on  the  part  of  the  Almighty.  Each  of  us 
has  provoked  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  ;  and  yet  upon  none 
of  us  has  that  wrath,  as  yet,  come  down  in  its  fury.  So 
that,  if  the  great  demonstration  of  God's  power  be  God's 
long-suffering,  then  each  amongst  us  may  find  in  himself 
that  demonstration  in  all  its  completeness.  And  thus  it 
may  be  of  all  things  the  most  possible,  that,  after  dwelling 
amazedly  on  the  stupendous  achievements  which  God  hath 
wrought  in  producing  and  actuating  the  systems  of  the 
universe ;  after  summoning  planets,  and  suns,  and  seas,  and 
mountains  to  give  in  their  tribute  of  acknowledgment  to 
the  might  of  Him  who  "  spake  and  it  was  done,  who  com- 
manded and  they  stood  fast ;"  oh,  we  say,  it  is  of  all  things 
the  most  possible,  that  angels  may  be  looking  down  upon 

myself  as  the  crowning  point  of  proof, — and  not  because 
19 


290  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect, 

I  am  marvellous  as  the  compound  of  matter  and  spirit,  of 
mortal  and  immortal ;  and  not  because  I  inherit  a  nature 
which  hath  been  taken  into  absolute  union  with  the  Di- 
vine ;  but  because  I  have  sinned,  and  yet  breathe  ;  because 
I  have  defied  the  living  God,  and  the  earth  has  not 
cleaved,  and  the  torrent  has  not  rushed,  and  the  bolt  has 
not  fallen;  because  I  have  been  long-offending,  and  God 
has  been  long-suffering — therefore  may  they  regard  me  as 
out  and  out  the  most  perfect  demonstration  that  the  power 
of  their  Lord  is  great ;  and  assign  me,  because  spared  in 
mine  offences,  a  place  amongst  the  witnesses  to  the  Almight- 
iness  of  their  Maker,  which  they  give  not  to  the  marchings 
of  planets,  nor  to  the  gorgeousness  of  light,  nor  to  their 
own  beauty  as  ethereal  things,  and  rapid,  and  masterful. 

And  we  think  that  it  will  conduce  to  your  allowing  the 
truth  of  our  position,  as  to  the  long-suffering  of  God  being 
the  great  evidence  of  his  power,  if  you  dwell  for  a  while 
on  the  difficulty  which  even  the  holiest  of  men  experience 
in  dealing  with  the  workers  of  unrighteousness.  We  will 
refer,  first,  to  a  case  of  most  common  occurrence,  and  we 
think  to  carry  the  mind  of  every  hearer  along  with  us, 
whilst  describing  it,  and  drawing  from  it  our  inferences. 
If  you  walk  the  streets  of  our  crowded  metropolis,  you 
meet  often  with  exhibitions  of  wickedness  which  call  up 
your  instant  indignation.  It  may  be  that  some  reprobate 
fellow-creature  is  fearfully  blaspheming  the  name  of  your 
God ;  or  that  he  is  tyrannizing  over  some  weaker  one  of 
his  race ;  or  that  he  is  acting  with  great  cruelty  towards 
an  animal.  You  know  that  you  cannot  hear  him,  or  can- 
not see  him,  without  feeling  your  passions* vehemently  ex- 
cited ;  and  the  uppermost  wish  in  your  minds  is  that  of 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFEKING.  291 

being  able  to  restrain  him  and  punish  him.  In  that  most 
common  instance,  when  you  observe  the  ill-using  of  the 
brute  creation — we  suppose  that  you  have  all  felt  that 
scarce  repressible  anger,  which  leads  you  to  desire  to  inflict 
on  the  man  of  cruelty  something  of  the  same  pain  which 
he  is  wantonly  causing  to  his  horse  or  his  dog.  There  is 
nothing,  we  think,  clearer  than  that.it  is  only  the  want  of 
power  which  prevents  a  summary  vengeance  :  so  that  if 
you  could  follow  your  feelings,  you  would  punish  the 
offender  on  the  spot,  and  account,  that  in  so  doing,  you  did 
only  what  was  commendable.  And  we  are  not  about  to 
enter  into  any  examination  of  the  right  or  the  wrong  of 
the  feeling ;  we  simply  wish  to  assert  that  such  a  feeling 
exists,  and  to  make  the  existence  a  groundwork  of  argu- 
ment. It  appears  that  we  have  to  put  a  great  constraint 
on  ourselves,  when  we  behold  an  act  of  oppression ;  and 
that,  after  all,  we  swallow  down  our  indignation,  not 
because  we  determine  by  a  moral  effort  to  repress  it,  but, 
rather,  because  there  are  hindrances  which  stand  in  the 
way  of  our  giving  it  vent.  If  these  hindrances  were  re- 
moved, it  may  be  doubted,  whether,  in  one  case  out  of  a 
hundred,  we  should  not  directly  interfere  to  deliver  the 
oppressed,  and  chastise  the  oppressor.  So  that  we  should 
possibly  find  it  of  all  things  the  hardest,  to  show  ourselves 
long-suffering ;  and  the  effort  which  it  would  be  to  us,  with 
the  power  in  our  hands,  and  the  indignation  in  our  breasts, 
to  pass  on  and  leave  the  savage  undisturbed  in  his  brutal- 
ity, this  is  not  to  be  described,  and  not  even,  perhaps, 
imagined. 

And  now  let  us  carry  up  your  thoughts  from  ourselves 
to  God.     You  observe  that  the  spectacle  of  the  working 


292  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

of  evil  produces  within  us  the  most  painful  emotions,  and 
that  the  immediate  impulse,  even  of  the  best  regulated 
mind,  is  towards  the  punishing,  if  possible,  the  offender. 
But  we  ask  you  to  remember  that  the  spectacle  which  thus 
moves  the  holy  wrath,  if  we  may  so  term  it,  of  the  crea- 
ture, is  present  in  all  its  aggravations  to  the  Creator. 
With  a  hatred  of  sin,  which  outruns  our  conceptions,  and 
much  more  our  imitation,  God  is  looking  down  on  every 
misdoing  by  which  the  earth  is  polluted ;  so  that,  mysteri- 
ous as  it  may  seem,  He  who  so  abhors  evil  that  He  is  de- 
clared to  be  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  it,  is  j)resent  at 
the  perpetration  of  each  species  of  crime,  standing  by  the 
blasphemer,  whilst  pouring  out  his  curses,  and  by  the  mur- 
derer, whilst  bearing  down  on  his  victim.  If  this  fact  be 
pondered,  it  must  almost  startle  and  confound  us.  God, 
who  is  so  holy  that  the  least  moral  blot  on  a  creation 
would  be  reason  enough  with  Him  why  that  creation  should 
at  once  be  destroyed,  God,  so  to  speak,  is  at  the  side  of 
every  transgressor,  when,  by  his  transgressions,  he  disobeys 
and  defies  Him.  And  yet  He  strikes  not.  Present  in  the 
holiness  which  abhors  sin ;  present  in  the  might  which  can 
punish  sin  ;  and  yet,  as  though  the  sinner  were  left  at  lib- 
erty to  work  out,  unnoticed  and  unrecompensed,  his  in- 
iquities, lo,  the  hater  of  sin,  and  the  avenger  of  sin,  puts  no 
arrest  on  that  which  He  abominates,  and  deals  out  no 
punishment  against  that  which  He  denounces. 

We  call  it  an  amazing  fact,  one  that  is  most  staggering 
to  a  finite  intelligence.  But  why  so  ?  wherein  lies  its  sur- 
passing strangeness  ?  simply,  we  think,  in  this.  The 
Creator  is  brought  before  us,  as  exhibiting' what  we  our- 
selves, under  any  the  like    circumstances,  could  scarcely 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  293 

exhibit — long-suffering.  We  just  ask  you  to  imagine  a 
sensitive  and  tender-hearted  man,  standing  by  whilst  some 
monster  of  his  species  was  foully  ill-treating  a  fellow- 
creature  or  an  animal.  Suppose  him  possessed  of  the 
most  perfect  ability  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  cruelty,  and 
awarding  due  punishment.  The  first  impulse  would  be  to 
exercise  this  ability.  And  if,  in  place  of  yielding  to  the 
impulse,  he  should  reflect  within  himself,  If  I  spare  this 
guilty  one  awhile,  if  I  visit  not  upon  him  on  the  instant 
his  iniquity,  he  may  possibly  repent,  and  see  the  vileness 
of  his  conduct,  and  grow  more  humane ;  why,  we  do  not 
deny  that,  by  a  great  effort,  the  reflection  might  carry  it 
over  the  impulse,  the  man  might  pass  on,  and,  in  the  hope 
of  a  future  amendment,  resolve  to  administer  no  present 
correction.  We  allow  that  there  is  no  actual  impossibility 
against  the  exercise  of  such  a  forbearance.  But  we  think 
you  will  all  agree  that  a  vast  effort  would  be  needed  for 
the  repressing  the  feelings;  and  that,  if  we  were  spec- 
tators of  this  deferring  of  vengeance,  we  should  either 
join  in  an  outcry  at  the  hard-heartedness  of  him  who 
displayed  the  long-suffering,  or  confess  that  a  mastery 
had  been  won  over  the  spirit,  which  might  justly  obtain 
for  the  achiever  a  lofty  place  amongst  the  heroes  of  man- 
kind. 

Now  we  readily  admit  that  the  things  of  God  are  not 
to  be  judged  of  by  comparison  with  the  things  of  men. 
Therefore  we  do  not  exactly  say,  that  because  long-suffer- 
ing would  prove  great  power  in  ourselves,  it  must  neces- 
sarily prove  great  power  in  our  Maker.  But  we  may 
carry  the  argument  from  human  feeling  thus  far,  at  least, 
if  no  further.     We  may  state  that  nothing  would  show 


294  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

greater  power  in  a  creature,  holy  enough  to  abhor  evil, 
and  possessed  of  ability  to  punish  it,  than  the  exercise  of 
forbearance.  We  may  then  fairly  go  on  to  assert,  that,  in 
proportion  as  both  the  holiness  and  ability  increase,  the 
forbearance  more  and  more  manifests  the  power.  So  that, 
if  we  are  not  yet  in  the  position  to  infer  that  God  shows 
his  power  most,  when  He  shows  Himself  long-suffering, 
we  may  certainly  perceive  that  there  is  nothing  in  such  an 
inference  which  ought  to  strike  us  as  strange,  seeing  it  is 
only  what  we  might  arrive  at  by  carrying  up  our  inquiry 
through  successive  ranks  of  being.  Long-suffering  is 
power  over  one's  self.  If  then  it  be  reverent  so  to  speak, 
God's  long-suffering  is  God's  power  over  Himself;  and 
assuredly  God's  power  over  Himself  must  be  greater  than 
the  power  which  He  puts  forth,  when  He  deals  with  what 
is  material  and  finite. 

We  may  have  all  read  of  such  instances  as  of  a  man, 
in  the  hardihood  of  his  atheism,  challenging,  so  to  speak, 
the  Deity  to  prove  his  existence  by  striking  him  to  the 
earth.  "If  there  be  a  God,  let  Him  show  Himself  by 
smiting  me  His  denier."  Now,  you  can  hardly  picture  to 
yourselves  a  being  exercising  over  himself  so  perfect  a 
command,  that,  with  all  the  apparatus  of  fiery  reply  at 
his  disposal,  he  should  not  answer  the  challenge  by  level- 
ling him,  who  utters  it,  with  the  ground.  Can  you  measure 
to  me  the  effort,  which  it  would  be  to  a  creature,  to  keep 
the  thunder  silent,  and  to  chain  up  the  lightning?  Yet 
the  atheist  is  allowed  to  depart  unscathed ;  and  the  proof 
of  God's  existence,  which  would  have  seemed  pre-eminently 
calculated  to  overspread  a  neighbourhood  *  with  terrible 
conviction,  is  mysteriously    withheld ;    so   that  the   bias- 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  295 

pherner  can  insultingly  refer  to  his  own  fierce  appeal,  as 
bearing  witness  that  there  is  either  no  God,  or  none  who 
concerns  himself  with  what  is  done  on  this  earth.  But 
what  lesson  does  the  believer  in  a  God  derive  from  this 
absence  of  all  answer  to  the  daring  appeal  ?  We  tell  you 
that  he  learns  God's  might  a  hundredfold  more  from  the 
unbroken  silence  of  the  firmament  than  he  would  do  from 
the  hoarse  tones  of  vengeance  rushing  down  to  the  de- 
struction of  the  rebel.  The  atheist  overthrown — this  is  as 
nothing  to  the  exhibition  of  the  atheist  spared.  It  would 
have  been  as  nothing  that  God  should  have  launched  the 
bolt — the  prodigy,  the  marvel,  whose  height  I  cannot 
scale,  whose  depth  I  cannot  fathom,  it  is  that  God  should 
have  withheld  the  bolt.  I  should  have  learnt  God  power- 
ful over  the  elements,  had  I  seen  the  blasphemer  stretched, 
a  blackened  corpse,  at  my  feet:  I  learn  God  powerful  over 
Himself,  when  the  questioner  of  his  Deity  passes  on  unin- 
jured. A  finite  being  might  have  struck:  I  think  that 
none  but  an  infinite  could  forbear.  So  that,  if  you  give 
yourselves  to  the  careful  examination  of  the  case,  you  must 
allow  that  in  no  voice  could  there  have  been  so  much 
Divinity  as  in  silence.  The  atheist  demands  that  God 
should  show  Himself  by  punishing:  the  Christian  per- 
ceives that  God  shows  Himself  by  forbearing.  And  if 
from  this  display  of  unavenged  blasphemy,  the  believer 
should  betake  himself  to  argument  with  any  scoffer,  who, 
like  those  who  are  to  deform  the  last  days  of  our  creation, 
would  plead  the  delay  in  the  accomplishment  of  threaWi- 
ings  in  evidence  of  a  want  of  the  power  to  execute,  oh, 
would  he  not  feel  that  the  best  answer  to  a  doubt  as  to 
God's  power  might  be  fetched  from  God's  patience,  and 


296  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

that  he  could  say  nothing  better  than  that  u  God  is  long- 
suffering  towards  us,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish," 
when  he  would  substantiate  to  the  scomer  the  important 
proposition,  "The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise, 
as  some  men  count  slackness  ?" 

But  we  wish  to  show  you  more  precisely  that,  in  the 
long-suffering  of  God,  lies  the  great  proof  of  his  power. 
We  must  take  care  not  so  to  dwell  on  God's  bearing  with 
his  creatures,  and  leaving  them  unvisited  in  their  misdo- 
ings, as  to  forget  that  the  deferring  of  punishment  has  no 
connection  with  the  diminishing  it,  that  the  allowing  sin 
to  go  on  for  years  unvisited,  involves  no  pledge  of  the  final 
remission  of  its  penalties.  We  shall  probably  arrive  at 
right  apprehensions  of  God's  long-suffering,  as  connected 
with  God's  other  attributes,  if  we  carefully  review  these 
two  facts — first  of  all,  that  God  can  punish  every  sin,  and 
secondly,  that  God  can  pardon  every  sin.  It  is  essential 
to  the  long-suffering  of  God,  that  each  of  these  assertions 
should,  in  the  largest  sense,  hold  good.  Unless  there  is 
the  power  of  punishing,  there  can  be  no  long-suffering ;  for 
long-suffering  necessarily  presupposes,  that  a  being,  who 
might  on  the  instant  take  vengeance,  passes  over  for  a 
while  the  iniquity.  On  the  other  hand,  unless  God  can 
pardon  every  sin,  what  is  there  in  his  long-suffering  ?  We 
can  have  no  idea  of  long-suffering,  except  as  is  expressed 
in  our  text — that  it  is  the  bearing  with  an  offender,  in 
order  that,  time  being  given  him  to  consider  his  ways,  he 
may  yet,  by  repentance,  turn  away  punishment.  And  if, 
then,  we  can  satisfactorily  show  that  God  is  pre-eminently 
powerful,  inasmuch  as  He  is  both  the  puftisher  and  the 
pardoner  of  sin,  we  shall  have  established  the  point  under 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  297 

debate,  that  God's  long-suffering  is  the  great  measure  of 
his  power. 

Look,  then,  at  the  punishment  of  sin — you  will  readily 
admit  that  it  is  proving  God  powerful,  to  prove  Him  supe- 
rior to  every  creature ;  so  that,  were  the  whole  universe 
banded   against  Him,  there  would   be  no  way  made  in 
entrenching  on  his  sovereignty.     But  how  can  we  more 
thoroughly  assure  ourselves  of  God's  superiority  to  every 
creature,  than  by  ascertaining  that   over  every  creature 
which   swerves   from    obedience,    God    can    exercise   the 
office    of    avenger?     There    is    nothing    parallel   to    this 
in  the  furthest  carrying  out    of  human  authority.     The 
subject  may  revolt  from  the  ruler,  and  prosecute  his  treason 
so  successfully  as  to  wrench  the  crown  from  its  rightful 
possessor.     And  it  were  absurd  to  talk  of  the  ruler  as 
long-suffering,   unless  he  have  the  power   of  seizing  the 
traitor,  and  do  not  exercise  it.     If,  then,  the  whole  earth 
were  brought  under  the  sway  of  a  single  sceptre,  you 
could  not  better  sketch  this  universal  supremacy  than  by 
saying  of  him  who  held  it,  that   long-suffering  was  his 
characteristic.     For  if  the  seat  of  this  unlimited  empire 
were  in  England,  and  there  came  tidings  of  revolt  in  Asia 
or  America,  then,  if  I  could  assign  as  the  reason  why  such 
revolt  was  not  instantly  checked,  that  the  monarch  was 
long-suffering,  I  should  certainly  imply,  that,  if  the  mon- 
arch chose  to  put  forth  his  might,  he  could  immediately 
quell  these  insurrections  in  far  distant  provinces.     It  is 
only  possible  for  him  to  be  long-suffering,  on  the  supposi- 
tion, that,  if  he  will,  he  may  instantly  punish.     Thus  also 
with  God.     Whatever  the  creature  which  apostatizes  from 
God,  whether  standing  high  or  low  in  the  scale  of  intelli- 


298  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

geuce,  beyond  all  question,  the  power  of  God  can  reach 
and  restrain  and  crush  this  creature.     It  may,  indeed,  be 
that  the  creature  is  permitted  to  go  on  in  rebellion,  and 
that  thus  no  direct  evidence  is  given  of  the  supremacy  of 
God.     And  it  might  be  that  rebellion  would  run  along 
every  order  of  being,  and  God  be  opposed  by  the  whole 
body  of  his  creatures,  and  those   creatures  be  left,  to  all 
appearance,  alone,  to  frame  their  schemes,  and  wage  their 
battles.     Wherein,   then,   would   lie   the  proof  of   God's 
power  ?  Simply,  in  God's  long-suffering.     Long-suffering  is 
the  greatest  exhibition  of  power  on  this  side  the  day  of 
judgment.     It  is  our  evidence  that  God  now  possesses  all 
that  God  shall  then  exercise.     And  when  I  am  told  that 
God  is  long-suffering,  and  no  limitations  are  placed  on  the 
attribute,  you  bring  before  me  a  picture  as  overpowering 
in  its  details,  as  stupendous  in  its  outlines.     I  see  at  once, 
that,  if  God  be  long-suffering,  then  God  can  punish  every 
sin.     What  then  ?  vice  may  seem  to  carry  it  over  virtue ; 
and  I  may  search  in  vain,  through  all  that  is  passing  on  a 
disordered  creation,  for  tokens  that  a  moral  government  is 
still  upheld  in  its  vigour  ;  and  the  infidel  may  tauntingly 
refer  to  the  triumph  of  evil,  and  infer  that  God  has  been 
compelled  to  abandon  one  world  at  least  to  the  dominion 
of  his  foes  ;   but,  fastening  on  the  long-suffering  of  the 
Creator,  I  am  proof  against  all  doubts  as  to  the  power  of 
the  Creator:    He   could  not  be  long-suffering  unless  He 
could  punish  :  He  could  not  punish  unless  he  were  supreme. 
And  then  observe,  secondly,  that  God  can  pardon  every 
sin.     Of  all  extraordinary  truths,  perhaps  the  most  extra- 
ordinary is,  that   sin    can    be   forgiven.     We   may    have 
accustomed  ourselves  to  think  lightly  of  sin  :  if  Ave  would 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  299 

be  honest  in  searching  our  feelings,  we  should  probably 
confess  ourselves  surprised  at  the  vehement  terms  in  which 
it  is  characterized.     Yet,  let  reason  herself  sit  in  quiet  and 
undisturbed  judgment  upon  sin,  and  her  verdict  would  be 
that  sin  is  unpardonable.     We  were  bound,  as  creatures,  to 
serve  God  with  all  our  faculties,  whether  of  body  or  soul. 
And  if  we  swerve,  in  a  single  particular,  from  this  uniform 
consecration,  we  have  kept  back  a  fraction,  no  matter  how 
trifling,  of  the  tribute  due  from  us  to  God ;  and  though, 
for  long  after  years,  there  might  be  no  fresh  deficiency, 
still,  since  God's  right  is  to  all  at  all  times,  the  obedience 
of  a  century  could  never  make  up  the  arrears  of  a  moment. 
Thus  there  must  be  always  an  outstanding  debt ;  and  unless 
God's  justice  shall  relax  in  its  claims — unless,  that  is,  God 
shall  cease  to  be  God — there  is  no  discernible  mode  in 
which  the  debt  can  be  discharged  ;  so  that  reason,  sitting 
in  judgment  on  the  very  lightest  of  sins,  must  be  driven  to 
the  conclusion  that  sin  is  unpardonable.     And  if  the  pro- 
viding, or  making  possible,  a  pardon  for  sin,  be  exactly 
that  which  would  have  seemed  to  us  impossible,  we  may 
fairly  take  the  pardon,  when  planned  and  perfected,  as  the 
highest  demonstration  of  the  power  of  God.     That,  which 
reason  would  have  decided  impossible  to  be  effected,  be- 
comes, when  effected,  the  noblest  of  all  proofs  of  the  power 
of  the  Accomplisher. 

I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  other  work  of  the 
Creator,  whose  performance,  if  beforehand  submitted  to 
reason,  would  have  been  judged  to  be  impossible.  Even 
had  man  stood  alone,  the  solitary  result  of  the  creative 
energies  of  God,  his  reason,  judging  from  the  magnificence 
of  his  own  constitution,  would  have  decided  that  an  uni- 


3U0  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

verse,  unmeasured  in  its  sweep,  and  full,  to  the  overflow,  of 
the  sublime  and  the  beautiful,  might  arise  at  the  bidding 
of  Him  whose  word  had  already  given  life.  It  would 
have  seemed  possible  to  man,  whilst  surrounded  by  no 
tokens  of  God's  wonder-working  might,  thrown  on  the 
evidences  of  his  own  flesh  and  spirit — it  would,  we  say, 
have  seemed  possible  to  man,  the  single  inhabitant,  save  the 
Eternal  One  Himself,  of  immensity,  that  innumerable 
worlds,  each  possessed  by  an  innumerable  tenantry,  should 
start  out  of  nothingness  and  walk  the  firmament  in  a 
bright  and  rejoicing  companionship.  And  thus  creation  is 
not  to  man  the  greatest  demonstration  of  God's  power. 
Creation  does  not  go  beyond  what  reason  would  have 
thought  possible  ;  and  it  is  only  the  pardon  of  sin  which 
reason,  unaided  in  her  search,  would  have  set  down  as  im- 
possible. Reason,  uninformed  as  to  the  possibility  of  God 
becoming  man,  must  have  pronounced  the  impossibility  of 
God  forgiving  transgression.  And  is  it  not  most  accurate 
to  say,  that  the  achievement,  which  man  would  have  ac- 
counted impossible,  is  a  stronger  proof  to  him  of  the 
power  of  the  Achiever,  than  any  other  which  his  own 
calculations  would  have  classed  amongst  the  possible  ?  So 
that  we  set  it  before  you  as  not  to  be  controverted,  that 
the  fact  that  God  can  pardon  sin  contains  the  strongest  of 
all  evidences  to  the  power  of  God.  And  forasmuch  as  the 
long-suffering  of  God  takes  for  granted  that  God  can  par- 
don sin,  it  follows  that  God's  long-suffering  is  the  very 
mightiest  demonstration  of  God's  power. 

It  may  be  a  bold  thing  to  say ;  but,  if  you  examine 
carefully,  you  will  see  that  there  is  a  strong  sense  in  which 
it  may  be  said,  that  long-suffering  is  not  natural  to  God. 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  301 

No,  not  natural.  For  was  God  long-suffering  without  an 
effort  ?  Could  He  be  long-suffering  without  preparation  ? 
He  could  be  long-suffering  only  as  He  had  resolved  to  give 
up  his  well-beloved  Son  to  the  fiercest  of  agonies  and  the 
foulest  of  wrongs.  He  could  be  long-suffering,  only  as  a 
covenant  had  been  entered  into,  that,  in  the  fulness  of 
times,  He  who  was  from  all  eternity  his  equal  would  as- 
sume the  rebellious  nature  of  the  fallen,  and  fight  therein 
a  battle  in  which  victory  must  be  death.  He  could  be 
long-suffering,  only  if  He  would  bow  the  Heavens,  and 
surrender  a  Divine  person  to  the  scorn  and  the  loathing  of 
men.  And  He  did  this.  He  bade  the  sword  awake 
against  his  fellow  ;  and,  rendering  it  possible,  through  the 
sacrifice  of  his  Son,  that  sin  might  be  forgiven,  He  ren- 
dered it  also  possible  that  Himself  could  be  long-suffering. 
And  when  I  think  on  the  difference  between  God's  cre- 
ating a  world,  and  God's  pardoning  a  sin — the  one  done 
without  effort,  the  other  demanding  an  instrumentality 
terribly  sublime ;  the  one  effected  by  a  word,  the  other 
wrought  out  in  agony  and  blood,  on  a  quaking  earth  and 
beneath  a  darkened  heaven — oh,  the  world  created  is  as 
nothing  by  the  side  of  the  sin  blotted  out :  that  God  can 
pardon  is  at  the  very  summit  of  what  is  wonderful ;  and 
therefore  then,  O  Lord,  do  I  most  know  Thee  as  the 
Omnipotent,  when  I  behold  in  Thee  the  long-suffering. 

We  have  shown  you  that,  if  God  be  long-suffering,  He 
can  punish  every  sin,  and  He  can  pardon  every  sin ;  and 
arguing  supremacy  in  power,  both  from  the  punishment 
and  the  pardon,  we  bring  home  to  you  the  conclusion,  that 
the  supremacy  is  shown  by  the  long-suffering.  And  thus, 
to  recur  once  more  to  the  statement  of  our  text,  let  the 


302  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  [Lect. 

scorner  come  forward  and  object,  that  the  threatenings  of 
God  must  hitherto  have  failed  of  fulfilment,  because  the 
power  of  God  is  not  adequate  to  their  execution,  then  I 
shall  uot  point  him  to  the  marvels  of  creation,  to  the  stars, 
and  the  forests,  and  the  mountains,  in  order  to  display  to 
him  that  power  which  he  questions  or  denies:  I  shall  say 
to  him,  "The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise, 
as  some  men  count  slackness ;"  and  I  shall  think  it  enough 
to  rebuke  all  suspicion  as  to  the  slackness  resulting  from 
weakness,  to  add,  "  He  is  long-suffering  to  us-ward,  not 
willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to 
repentance." 

Now,  we  trust  you  will  all  carry  with  you  the  idea  which 
we  have  been  most  anxious  to  exhibit,  that  it  is  chiefly  in 
showing  Himself  long-suffering  that  God  shows  Himself 
powerful.     Take  any  other  instance  of  power,  and  you  can, 
perhaps,  imagine  a  greater.     Point  out  to  me  the  sun,  and 
I  may  suppose  a  yet  mightier  luminary,  rejoicing  as  a  giant 
to  run  a  race.     Point  out  to  me  the  stars,  and  I  may  sup- 
pose a  yet  more  brilliant  troop  walking  the  magnificent 
canopy.     But  tell  me  of  forbearance,  of  long-suffering,  of 
patience,  and  you  tell  me  of  a  power  (if  it  be  not  para- 
doxical thus  to  speak)  which  is  greater  than  infinite.     God 
delaying  to  take  vengeance  is  God  showing  his  power  over 
Himself,  power,  that  is,  over  the  Omnipotent.     So  that  we 
can  well  understand  how  the  patience  may  be  connected 
with  the  power  of  God,  as  though  the  one  attribute  were 
the  great  cause  or  evidence  of  the  other.     That  the  Divine 
Being  can  be  insulted  and  not  avenge  Himself;   that  He 
can  be  defied,  blasphemed,  and  not  at  once  strike   down 
the  daring  offenders ;  that,  day  after  day,  year  after  year, 


XV.]  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING.  303 

He  can  suffer  the  wicked  to  go  on  in  their  wickedness,  their 
every  action  showing  scorn  of  Him,  their  every  word 
hatred  ;  and  yet,  that,  all  the  while,  He  has  engines  at 
his  disposal  through  which  He  might  turn  them  into  ter- 
rible monuments  of  his  righteous  indignation — oh,  there  is 
far  greater  demonstration  of  might  in  this,  than  in  any  of 
those  exhibitions,  to  which  men  ordinarily  refer,  when  they 
would  declare  the  supremacy  of  God :  every  one  of  us,  a 
living  tiling,  and  yet  a  sinful,  outdoes  the  earth  with  all 
its  wonders,  and  the  firmament  with  all  its  hosts,  in  proving 
the  Creator  surpassing  in  his  strength. 

We  must  make  a  close  and  practical  application  of  so 
surprising  a  fact,  even  though  we  should  but  repeat  our 
foregoing  statements.     Children  though  ye  be  of  weakness, 
and  heirs    of  corruption,  we  may  address   you   in  terms 
loftier  than  we  could  dare  apply  to  the  sun  when  marchino- 
in  his  brightness,   or  to  the  gorgeous  retinue  of  the  deep 
rich  midnight.     Monuments  the    most   illustrious  of   the 
might  of  the  Almighty,  I  speak  to  you  as  to  beings  upon 
whom   are   gathered    the    regards   of  the  Angel  and  the 
Archangel.     That  you  are  still  amongst  the  living  ;  that  it 
has  been  possible  for  you  to  be  rebellious,  days  and  weeks 
ami    months  and   years;  that  you  have  been  spared   to 
insult  God,  to  receive  his  favours  with  coldness,  to  break 
his  commandments,  to  make  light  of  his  threatenings,  to 
put  contempt  on  his  promises — where  is  the  prodigy  Avhich 
can  half  as  much  amaze  the  holy  creatures  who  have  held 
fast  their  allegiance  ?     Each  amongst  us  is  a  witness  that 
God  is  long-suffering,  and  therefore  that  God  is  Omnip- 
otent. 

But  what  use  have  we  made  of  the  Divine  long-suffer- 


304  THE  DIVINE  LONG-SUFFERING. 

ing?  to  what  purpose  have  we  turned  it?  Have  we 
reason  to  account  with  the  Apostle  that  the  "  long-suffer- 
ing of  God  is  salvation  V  has  it  led  us  to  repentance  ? 
Would  that  it  might  be  so.  God  bears  with  us  in  love, 
not  in  wrath ;  bears  with  us,  because  it  is  yet  possible  that 
we  may  escape  from  death,  and  enter  into  life.  In  God's 
long-suffering  I  read  this  fact,  salvation  is  within  reach  of 
all  whom  I  address.  He  does  not  spare  you  to  increase 
your  condemnation  :  perish  the  thought :  He  spares  you 
only  because  yet  there  is  hope,  yet  there  is  grace,  yet  there 
is  room ;  and  all — which  of  you  can  be  willing  to  be  left 
out  ? — all  may  be  sheltered,  when  the  storm  of  wrath  is  in 
the  Heavens,  and  the  sheet  of  fire  round  the  earth.  Let 
us  take  heed,  therefore,  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  that  we 
"  despise  not  the  riches  of  his  goodness  and  forbearance  and 
long-suffering,  not  knowing  that  the  goodness  of  God 
leadeth  us  to  repentance."  Long-suffering,  as  we  have 
shown  you,  proves  power  in  two  ways — as  presupposing 
that  God  can  punish  sin,  and  also  that  God  can  pardon 
sin.  There  is,  therefore,  encouragement  in  long-suffering ; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  there  is  warning.  It  forbids  any  to 
despair  :  it  allows  none  to  presume.  Since  God  spares  me, 
I  know  that  He  can  punish ;  and,  therefore,  I  might  be 
startled  at  my  very  preservation.  But  I  know  also,  on  the 
same  account,  that  God  can  pardon  ;  and,  therefore,  let  me 
flee  to  Him  through  Christ,  whilst  He  may  still  be  ad- 
dressed in  the  already  quoted  words  of  our  Collect,  "  O  God, 
who  declarest  thy  Almighty  power  most  chiefly  in  showing 
mercy  and  pity." 


LECTURE  XVI. 


Ironing  fyt  htb. 


Mark  iv.  26-29. 


"  And  He  said,  So  is  the  Kingdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man  should  cast  seed  into  the  ground  ; 
and  should  sleep,  and  rise  night  and  day,  and  the  seed  should  spring  and  grow  up, 
he  knoweth  not  how.  For  the  earth  briugeth  forth  fruit  of  herself;  first  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  com  in  the  ear.  But  when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth, 
immediately  he  putteth  in  the  sickle,  because  the  harvest  is  come." 

You  are  all,  no  doubt,  aware  that  the  phrase  "the 
Kingdom  of  God,"  or  "  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  with 
which  so  many  of  our  Lord's  parables  are  introduced, 
denotes  ordinarily  the  Gospel  dispensation,  or  the  Divine 
method  of  dealing  under  the  covenant  of  grace.  In 
general,  these  parables  have  a  twofold  signification :  they 
delineate  the  Gospel,  either  as  making  way  in  the  world, 
or  as  acting  on  an  individual.  The  remarkable  parable, 
which  we  have  just  read  to  you,  would  most  probably 
admit  this  double  interpretation :  it  may  be,  that  is,  that 
the  history  of  the  Church  as  a  body,  and  the  history  of 
every  believer  in  particular,  illustrates,  or  is  illustrated  by, 
the  figurative  sketch  here  given  of  the  sowing  of  the  seed, 
and  of  the  springing  of  the  blade.  We  shall  not,  how- 
ever, attempt  so  lengthened  an  inquiry.  We  will  confine 
20 


306  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

ourselves  to  the  individual  case ;  and,  without  further 
preface,  we  ask  your  close  attention,  whilst  we  examine 
how  the  kingdom  of  God  is  like  unto  seed  cast  into  the 
ground,  and  which  springetk  up,  the  man  knoweth  not 
how ;  and  then,  with  what  truth  it  can  be  said,  that,  when 
the  fruit  is  brought  forth,  the  sickle  is  immediately  put  in, 
because  the  harvest  is  come. 

Now  you  observe  that  the  parable  under  review  derives, 
like  many  others,  its  figures  from  the  processes  of  agricul- 
ture. When  the  husbandman  has  once  cast  the  seed  into 
the  ground,  there  is  little  or  nothing  more  that  he  can  do 
towards  ensuring  a  harvest.  He  will  therefore  employ 
himself  on  other  business,  leaving  to  the  vegetating  powers 
of  the  seed,  and  the  influences  of  the  sun  and  the  shower, 
the  covering  his  fields  with  the  rich  livery  of  plenty.  It  is 
this  representation  which  is  furnished  by  the  first  two 
verses  of  the  parable.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  likened  to. 
a  man  who  casts  seed  into  the  ground,  and  then  sleeps,  and 
rises  night  and  day — that  is,  betakes  himself  to  other 
occupations — and  the  seed  springs  and  grows  up,  he  know- 
eth not  how.  He  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  seed  after  he 
has  sown  it.  Nay,  in  place  of  being  able  to  help  on  the 
springing  up  of  the  corn,  he  is  profoundly  ignorant  of  the 
secret  operations  of  nature ;  there  is  not  to  him  a  greater 
mystery  than  that  of  the  buried  grain  reproducing  itself, 
a  hundredfold  multiplied. 

We  have  in  this  a  most  simple,  yet  striking,  represent- 
ation of  the  business,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  the  help- 
lessness, of  the  spiritual  husbandman.  Unto  the  ministers 
of  the  Gospel,  who  are  the  great  moral  labourers  in  the 
field  of  the  world,  there  is  entrusted  the  task  of  preparing 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  307 

the  soil,  and  of  casting  in  the  seed.  And  if  they  bring  to 
this  task  all  the  fidelity  and  all  the  diligence  of  intent  and 
single-eyed  labourers ;  if  they  strive  to  make  ready  the 
ground  by  leading  men  to  clear  away  the  weeds  of  an  un- 
righteous practice,  and  to  apply  the  spade  and  ploughshare 
of  a  resistance  to  evil,  and  a  striving  after  good  ;  and  if, 
then,  by  a  faithful  publication  of  the  grand  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  they  throw  in  the  seed  of  the  word ;  they  have 
reached  the  boundary  of  their  office,  and  also  of  their 
strength ;  and  are  to  the  full  as  powerless  to  the  making 
the  seed  germinate,  aud  send  forth  a  harvest,  as  the  hus- 
bandman to  the  causiug  the  valleys  to  stand  thick  with 
corn.  And,  indeed,  in  the  spiritual  agriculture,  the  power 
of  the  husbandman  is  even  more  circumscribed  than  in  the 
natural.  With  all  the  pains,  with  which  a  minister  of 
Christ  may  ply  at  the  duties  of  his  office,  he  can  never  be 
sure  that  the  ground  is  fit  for  receiving  the  grain :  he 
must  just  do  always  what  the  tiller  of  the  natural  soil 
is  never  reduced  to  do,  run  the  risk  of  casting  the  seed 
upon  the  rock,  or  of  leaving  it  to  be  devoured  by  the 
fowls  of  the  air. 

So  that,  after  all,  the  office  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel, 
though  the  very  noblest  with  which  man  can  be  charged, 
is,  in  every  respect,  singularly  limited.  It  is  not  the  office 
of  the  sculptor  who  takes  the  rude  block,  and,  fashioning 
it,  day  by  day,  with  industry  and  skill,  leaves  it  not  till  it 
emulates  the  loveliness  of  life.  It  is  not  the  office  of  the 
artisan,  who,  with  his  apparatus  of  tools,  and  his  assem- 
blage of  material,  toils  sedulously  at  his  occupation — 
each  portion  of  the  work  depending  equally  on  his  care 
and  his  handicraft — till  the  finished  piece  of  mechanism 


308  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect 

counts  the  hours,  and  tells  the  minutes.  The  minister  of 
Christ  can  do  little  more  than  scatter  the  seed;  and  he 
may  live  and  die  altogether  ignorant,  whether  much,  or 
whether  any,  have  sprung  up  into  a  harvest  of  righteous- 
ness. And  even  if  he  be  privileged  to  behold  the  ground 
covered  with  a  luxurious  produce,  he  cannot  be  said  to 
have  been  otherwise  instrumental  to  so  beautiful  a  result, 
than  as  having  strewed  the  earth  with  the  grain  entrusted 
to  him  by  the  great  Proprietor  of  the  soil.  To  him,  as 
well  as  to  the  natural  husbandman,  the  vegetation  of  the 
seed  will  ever  be  a  deep  and  impenetrable  mystery.  It 
springs  and  grows  up,  "  he  knoweth  not  how."  Wonder- 
ful and  unapproachable  is  the  Creator  in  all  his  dealings ; 
but  in  none  more  so  than  in  the  conversion  and  renewal 
of  sinners.  There  can  be  no  question,  that  the  method, 
which  He  ordinarily  employs,  is  the  preaching  of  the 
word.  You  come  to  the  sanctuary  week  after  week  ;  and 
this  gathering  together  of  the  children  of  immortality 
presents  the  surface  on  which  the  husbandman  is  to 
labour.  And,  if  he  be  faithful  to  the  work  entrusted  to 
his  performance,  he  brings  out,  from  the  granary  of  Scrip- 
ture, the  seeds  of  wholesome  truth  and  pregnant  doctrine ; 
and,  with  prayer  unto  Him,  who  can  alone  give  the  in- 
crease, casts  them  on  the  ground  which  he  hath  been 
appointed  to  cultivate. 

And  it  may  be,  that,  though  a  vast  quantity  of  this 
seed  falls  by  the  wayside,  and  is  utterly  lost,  whilst  an- 
other portion,  deposited  on  a  light  and  insufficient  soil, 
sends  up  quickly  a  produce  which  as  quickly  withers,  yet 
some  is  received  into  a  well-prepared  heart,  and  there 
waits  the  influence  of  the  shower  and  the  sunshine.     But 


XVL] 


SOWING  THE  SEED.  309 


who  shall  scrutinize  that  agency  by  which  the  word  is 
applied  to  the  conscience  ?     Who  shall  explain  how,  after 
weeks,  it  may  be,  or  months,  or  even  years,  during  which 
the  seed  has  lain  buried,  there  will  often  but  unexpectedly 
come  a  moment  when  the  preached  word  shall  rise  up  in 
the  memory,  and  a  single  text,  long  ago  heard,  and  to  all 
appearance   forgotten,  overspread  the  soul  with  the    big 
thoughts  of  eternity  ?     It  is  a  mystery,  which  far  trans- 
cends all  our  power  of  investigation,  how  spirit  acts  upon 
spirit ;  so  that,  whilst  there  are  no  outward  tokens  of  an 
applied  machinery,  there  is  going  on  within   a   mighty 
operation,  even  the  effecting  a  moral  achievement  which 
far  surpasses  the  stretch  of  all  finite  ability.     We  are  so 
accustomed  to  that  change  which  takes  place  in  a  sinner's 
conversion,  that  we  do  not  ascribe  to  it,  in  right  measure, 
its  characteristic  of  wonderful.     Yet  wonderful,  most  won- 
derful, it  is — wonderful  in  the  secrecy  of  the  process,  won- 
derful in  the  nature  of  the  result.     I  can   understand  a 
change  wrought  upon   matter.      I  have  no    difficulty  in 
perceiving  that   the   same   substance  may    be    presented 
under  quite  different  aspects;    and  that  mechanical  and 
chemical  powers  may  make  it  pass  through  a  long  series 
of  transformations.     But  where  is   the  mechanism  which 
shall  root  from  the   heart  the  love  of  sin?    where  the 
chemistry  which  shall  so  sublimate  the  affections  that  they 
will  mount  towards  God  ?     It  is  this  internal  revolution, 
which   we  have  no  power  of  scrutinizing   except   in   its 
effects.     "The  wind  bloweth  where   it  listeth,  and  thou 
nearest  the  sound  thereof;  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
cometh,  nor  whither  it  goeth  ;  so  is  every  one  that  is  born 
of  the  Spirit."     We  observe  that  some  thorough  change 


310  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

has  been  effected.  The  things,  which  were  once  delighted 
in,  are  now  shunned;  whilst  those,  which  were  disliked, 
are  cherished  as  most  precious.  There  is  a  clear  and  direct 
opposition  to  the  desires  and  inclinations  which  were  for- 
merly and  naturally  uppermost ;  whilst  motives,  by  which 
humanity  seems  ordinarily  incapable  of  being  stirred, 
operate  overpoweringly  on  every  faculty  and  feeling.  But 
if  we  would  look  in,  and  behold  the  appliances  by  which 
this  change  is  wrought  out ;  if  we  would  survey,  as  it  were, 
spirit  handling  spirit,  refreshing,  remoulding,  or,  rather, 
actually  recreating  it — oh,  it  were  even  easier  to  dive  into 
the  secrecies  of  nature,  and  investigate,  with  curious  accu- 
racy, what  goes  on  in  her  hidden  laboratories,  than,  by  all 
the  strivings  of  thought,  to  imagine  to  ourselves  this  life- 
giving  process. 

The  mystery  is  great  of  the  natural  seed,  which  must 
rot  in  the  earth,  and  become,  to  all  appearance,  wasted  and 
worthless,  before  it  can  reward  with  an  increase  the  hus- 
bandman's anxieties.  "That  which  thou  sowest  is  not 
quickened,  except  it  first  die."  But  the  mystery  of  the 
spiritual  seed — a  solitary  verse,  it  may  be,  sinking,  unob- 
served and  unfelt,  into  the  heart ;  lying  there,  unperceived 
or  unregarded,  whilst  evil  passions  are  still  holding  their 
court,  and  carrying  on  their  revelry ;  and  then,  sending 
out  suddenly  fibres  and  roots,  which  occupy  the  space,  and 
twine  themselves,  like  chains,  round  the  former  possessors 
— this,  though  it  be  taking  place  every  day,  so  that  long 
usage  has  familiarized  us  to  the  fact,  remains,  to  every 
inquiring  and  right-thinking  mind,  amongst  the  most 
inapproachable  of  marvels;  and  the  simple  verdict  of  the 
parable  contains  the  decision   of  all  who  pour  forth  their 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  311 

attention  on  this  moral  prodigy,  "It  springs,  and  grows 
up,  he  knoweth  not  how." 

But,  if  we  are  ignorant  of  the  method,  we  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  result.  The  parable  goes  on  to  describe 
this  result.  "  The  earth,"  it  saith,  "  bringeth  forth  fruit  of 
herself" — not  through  the  skill  of  the  tiller,  but  through 
virtues  wherewith  God  hath  endowed  it — "  first  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."  You 
have  here  an  account  of  successive  stages  of  Christian  ex- 
perience.  There  is  first  the  convert  in  the  young  days  of 
his  godliness — the  green  blade,  just  breaking  through  the 
soil,  and  giving  witness  to  the  germinations  of  the  seed. 
This  is  ordinarily  a  season  of  great  promise.  We  have 
not,  and  we  look  not  for,  the  rich  fruits  of  a  matured  and 
well-disciplined  piety.  But  we  have  a  glowing  and  ver- 
dant profession.  Every  thing  looks  freshly.  The  young 
believer  scarcely  calculates  on  any  interruptions ;  and,  as 
though  there  were  no  blighting  winds,  no  nipping  frosts, 
and  no  sweeping  hail,  to  be  expected  and  feared  in  the 
spiritual  agriculture,  the  tender  shoot  rises  from  the  ground, 
and  glistens  in  the  sunshine. 

Next  comes  the  ear ;  and  this  is  the  season  of  weariness 
and  watching.  Sometimes  there  will  be  a  long  interval,  with- 
out any  perceptible  growth.  Sometimes  the  corn  will  look 
sickly,  as  though  blasted  by  the  mildew.  Sometimes  the 
storm  will  rush  over  it,  and  almost  level  it  with  the  earth. 
And  all  this  takes  place  in  the  experience  of  the  Christian. . 
The  spiritual  husbandmen,  and  the  natural,  have  the  like 
anxieties  in  observing  the  ear,  of  which  the}7  have  sown  the 
seed.  How  slow  is  sometimes  the  growth  in  grace !  how 
slight  are  the  tokens  of  life  !  how  yellow  and  how  drooping 


312  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

the  corn  !  The  sudden  gust  of  temptation,  the  fatal  blight 
of  worldly  associations,  the  corroding  worm  of  indwelling 
corruption — all  these  may  tell  powerfully  and  perniciously 
on  the  rising  crop,  so  that  often  there  shall  scarcely 
seem  reason  to  hope  that  any  fruit  will  finally  be  yielded. 
Who  would  recognise  in  the  lukewarm,  and  dilatory,  and 
half  and  half  professor,  the  ardent,  and  active,  and  resolute 
convert  ?  Who  would  know  in  the  stunted  and  shrivelled 
ear,  the  green  blade  which  had  come  up,  like  an  emerald 
shoot  ?  Wre  do  not  indeed  say,  that  in  every  case,  there 
will  be  these  grievous  interruptions  and  declensions.  You 
may  find  instances,  wherein  godliness  grows  uniformly, 
and  piety  advances  steadily  and  even  rapidly  towards  per- 
fection. A  Christian  will  sometimes  ripen  for  Heaven,  as 
though,  in  place  of  being  exposed  to  the  cold  air,  and  the 
wild  rain,  he  had  been  treated  as  an  exotic,  and  always 
kept  under  shelter.  But  generally  even  with  those  who 
maintain  the  most  consistent  profession,  the  earing  time  is 
a  season  of  anxiety  and  uncertainty :  and  if  it  were  not 
that  there  are  gracious  promises,  assuring  him  that  the 
bruised  reed  shall  not  be  broken,  nor  the  smoking  flax 
quenched,  often  must  the  spiritual  husbandman  mourn 
bitterly  over  the  apparent  disappointment  of  all  his  best 
hopes,  and  surrender  himself  to  the  fear,  that,  when  the 
great  day  of  harvest  breaks  on  this  creation,  the  field 
which  had  once  worn  that  lovely  enamel,  which  gives  fair 
promise  of  an  abundant  ingathering,  will  yield  nothing  to 
the  reapers  but  the  dry  and  parched  stalks,  fit  only  to  be 
bound  in  bundles  for  the  burning. 

"Every  plant,"  said  Jesu*,  "which  my  heavenly  Father 
hath  not  planted,  shall  be  rooted  up;"  and  we  believe  also 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  313 

in  the  converse  of  this  saying,  that  every  plant  which  God 
hath  planted,  shall  at  last  yield  fruit  as  a  plant  of  right- 
eousness and  renown.  It  is  not  every  blade  which  springs 
from  the  agriculture  in  which  God  Himself  is  the  husband- 
man.  The  seed  sown  by  the  wayside,  yields  a  blade. 
But  the  blade  does  not  go  on  to  become  the  ear ;  convic- 
tion does  not  deepen  into  conversion.  This  then  is  not  the 
renewing  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  every  blade  which 
God  Himself  causes  to  spring,  He  causes  also  to  grow  till 
fit  for  the  sickle.  The  growth  may  be  hindered  as  we 
have  explained  to  you ;  and  there  will  necessarily  be  un- 
easiness in  those  who  are  watching  it,  lest,  after  all,  the 
planting  be  not  of  the  Lord.  But  God  has  his  eye  on  his 
own  field,  and  the  parable  next  declares,  that  when  the 
fruit  is  brought  forth,  or  when  the  fruit  is  ripe,  imme- 
diately He  putteth  in  the  sickle.  There  is  no  marked 
change  of  agency  ;  though  it  is  certain  that  the  sower  and 
the  reaper  are  not  strictly  the  same.  God  however  is 
Himself  the  husbandman ;  and  though  He  may  act  in  one 
part  by  man,  and  in  another  by  angels,  the  idea  of  his 
supremacy  and  superintendence  must  always  be  preserved, 
as  it  is  by  the  language  before  us. 

God  then  putteth  in  the  sickle  so  soon  as  the  fruit  is 
ripe.  No  believer  is  left  upon  earth,  after  he  is  ready  for 
Heaven.  We  are  often  inclined  to  wonder  that  trial  after 
trial  should  be  allotted  to  Christians,  who  seem  to  us  much 
further  advanced  than  others  who  have  been  gathered  to 
their  rest.  When  we  look  upon  aged  believers  who  appear 
to  have  been  long  ago  fitted  to  depart  hence,  and  to  be 
with  the  Lord,  we  almost  marvel  that  they  are  not  called 
home,  and  that  God  still  exercises  them  by  a  discipline  of 


314  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

affliction.  But  of  this  we  may  be  sure — the  ear  is  not  full, 
otherwise  it  would  be  plucked.  We  are  poor  judges  of 
meetness,  or  fitness,  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light.  And  there  is  such  a  difference,  a  natural  difference, 
between  the  subjects  of  grace,  that  the  amount  of  disci- 
pline which  fully  prepares  one,  may  leave  another  with  a 
vast  deal  to  be  done.  The  resistance  of  some  hearts  is  un- 
speakably greater  than  that  of  others.  The  churlish,  and 
rugged,  and  irritable  dispositions  will  require  more  time 
ere  they  are  subdued  by  religion,  than  the  amiable,  and 
mild,  and  forgiving.  Besides,  all  are  not  intended  for  the 
same  eminence  in  glory.  There  are  to  be  degrees  of 
happiness ;  and  these  we  doubt  not  will  be  proportioned 
to  degrees  of  holiness.  And  it  were  therefore  most  rash, 
if  we  decided  the  amount  of  fitness  for  death ;  seeing  that, 
if  prepared  for  one  degree  of  enjoyment,  there  are  higher 
and  nobler,  for  which  long  years  of  fresh  trial  and  warfare 
would  still  leave  us  unprepared.  One  believer  is  cut  off  in 
the  prime  of  his  natural  strength,  whilst  another  lingers  on 
through  a  weary  winter,  and  overpasses  the  natural  age  of 
mankind.  Both  when  they  die  are  fit  for  Heaven ;  and 
neither  attains  that  fitness  until  the  hour  of  dissolution ; 
"  when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth,  immediately  he  putteth 
in  the  sickle." 

So  that  we  have  no  other  feeling,  when  standing  by  the 
sick  bed  of  one  who  has  been  enabled  to  fix  faith  upon 
Christ,  but  that  there  is  fruit  before  us  which  is  rapidly 
ripening,  but  which,  however  it  may  strike  us  as  already 
wearing  the  golden  hue  of  maturity,  is  not  yet  ripe.  We 
do  not  say  that  any  denned  period  must  necessarily  elapse 
between  justification  and  salvation.     It  is  out  of  all  ques- 


Xyi.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  315 

tion,  that,  whensoever  a  justified  man  dies,  he  enters  into 
Heaven.  But  if  there  were  needed  fresh  argument  to 
demonstrate  the  improbabilities  of  death-bed  repentance, 
we  should  fetch  it  from  the  Scriptural  fact,  that,  after 
we  are  justified,  there  must  be  inwrought  in  us  a  fitness 
for  glory.  It  is  not  God's  ordinary- course — we  dare  not 
limit  Him  in  the  extraordinary — it  is  not  God's  ordinary 
course,  to  bring  close  together  the  seed  time  and  the  har- 
vest time ;  so  that  the  filling  of  the  ear  shall  follow 
instantly  on  the  sowing  of  the  grain.  The  natural  hus- 
bandry typifies  the  spiritual ;  and  we  look  not  in  the  one 
for  that  abruptness,  and  that  blending  of  results,  which  we 
find  not  in  the  other.  And,  therefore,  if  we  observe  a 
man  disposed  to  delay,  calculating  that  the  whole  work  of 
religion  may  be  condensed  into  an  hour,  and  that,  too,  the 
very  last  of  mortal  existence,  we  would  simply  say  to  him, 
"The  earth  bringeth  forth  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear, 
after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."  And  dost  thou  expect 
the  three  all  at  once  ?  If  thou  art  saved,  it  must  be  by  a 
kind  of  annihilation  of  time  ;  a  year,  with  all  its  seasons, 
must  pass  in  a  minute.  And  if  again  we  find  a  true  Chris- 
tian, who,  harassed  with  trouble  and  pain,  longs  with 
somewhat  of  impatience  for  the  hour  of  dismissal  from  the 
flesh,  we  say  to  him,  Take  heed  how  you  desire  the  mo- 
ment of  gathering  to  precede  the  moment  of  ripeness ; 
that  you  live  is  our  proof  that  you  are  not  yet  fit  for 
death;  "when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth,  immediately 
(mark  that),  immediately  he  putteth  in  the  sickle."  "We 
must  dwell  a  moment  longer  upon  this :  it  is  a  matter  full 
of  interest  and  instruction.  It  seems  often,  as  we  have 
hinted,  to  excite  surprise  both  in  the  sufferer  himself,  and 


316  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

in  others,  when  a  Christian,  who  has  long  been  eminent  for 
piety,  and  whose  faith  has  been  conspicuous  in  his  works, 
lingers  for  months,  perhaps  even  years,  in  wearisome  sick- 
ness, as  though,  notwithstanding  the  preparations  of  a 
righteous  life,  he  needed  protracted  trial  to  fit  him  for  the 
presence  of  God.  But  there  is,  we  believe,  altogether  a 
mistake  in  the  view  which  is  commonly  taken  of  old  age, 
and  lingering  sickuess.  Because  a  man  is  confined  to  his 
room,  or  his  bed,  the  idea  seems  to  be  that  he  is  altogether 
useless  ;  that,  in  the  ordinary  phrase,  he  is  quite  laid  by, 
as  though  he  had  no  duties  to  perform,  when  he  could  no 
longer  perform  those  of  more  active  life.  Was  there  ever 
a  greater  mistake  ?  The  sick  room,  the  sick  bed,  has  its 
special,  its  appropriate,  duties — duties  to  the  full  as  diffi- 
cult, as  honourable,  as  remunerative,  as  any  which  devolve 
on  the  Christian,  whilst  yet  in  his  unbroken  strength. 
They  are  not  precisely  the  same  duties  as  belonged  to  the 
man  in  health  :  but  they  differ  only  by  such  differences  as 
a  change  in  outward  circumstances  and  position  will  always 
introduce.  The  patience  which  he  has  to  cultivate,  the 
resignation  which  he  has  to  exhibit,  the  faith  which  he  has 
to  exercise,  the  example  which  he  has  to  set :  oh,  talk  not 
of  a  sick  man  as  of  a  man  laid  by !  harder  deeds  it  may  be, 
ay,  and  deeds  of  more  extensive  usefulness,  are  required 
from  him  who  lingers  on  the  couch,  than  from  many  a 
leader  in  the  highest  and  most  laborious  of  Christian  un- 
dertakings. 

Is  there  then  any  cause  for  surprise,  if  a  Christian  be  left 
to  linger  long  in  sickness,  to  wear  away  tedious  months  in 
racking  pain,  or  slow  decay  ?  Is  it  at  all  in  contradiction, 
to  the  saying,  that,  "  so  soon  as  the  fruit  is  ripe,  immedi- 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  317 

ately  lie  puttetli  in  the  sickle  ?"  Not  so — the  fruit  is  not 
necessarily  ripe,  the  man's  work  is  not  necessarily  done, 
because  he  is  what  you  call  laid  by,  and  can  take  no  part 
in  the  stir  aud  the  bustle  of  life.  It  is  they  who  turn 
many  to  righteousness  that  are  to  shine  as  the  stars  on  the 
firmament.  And  is  there  no  sermon  from  a  sick  bed  ? 
Has  the  sick  man  nothing  to  do  with  publishing  and  ad- 
vancing the  Gospel?  Nay,  I  think  that  an  awful,  a 
perilous  trust  is  committed  to  the  sick  Christian.  Friends, 
children,  neighbours,  the  Church  at  large,  look  to  him  for 
some  practical  exhibition  of  the  worth  of  Christianity  ; 
if  he  be  fretful  or  impatient,  or  full  of  doubts  and  fears, 
they  will  say,  Is  this  all  that  the  Gospel  can  do  for  man 
in  a  season  of  extremity  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  be 
meek  and  resigned,  and  able  to  testify  to  God's  faithful- 
ness to  his  word,  they  will  be  taught — and  nothing  teaches 
like  example — that  Christianity  can  make  good  its  preten- 
sions, that  it  is  a  sustaining,  elevating,  death-conquering 
religion. 

And  who  shall  calculate  what  may  be  wrought  through 
such  practical  exhibitions  of  the  power,  the  preciousness 
of  the  Gospel  ?  I,  for  one,  will  not  dare  to  affirm  that 
more  is  done  towards  converting  the  careless,  confirming 
the  wavering,  or  comforting  the  desponding,  by  the  bold 
champion  who  labours  publicly  at  the  making  Christ 
known,  than  by  many  a  worn-down  invalid  who  preaches 
to  a  household,  or  a  neighbourhood,  by  unruffled  patience, 
and  simple  unquestioning  dependence  upon  God.  I,  for 
one,  can  believe  that  he  who  dies  a  death  of  triumph, 
passing  almost  visibly,  whilst  yet  in  the  exercise  of  every 


318  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

energy,  from  a  high  post  of  usefulness,  into  the  kingdom 
of  glory,  may  have  fewer  at  the  Judgment  to  witness  to 
the  success  of  his  labours,  than  many  a  bed-ridden  Chris- 
tian, who,  in  the  beautiful  quietness  of  a  godly  submission, 
waited  year  after  year  his  summons  to  depart.  God  has 
particular  lessons  to  give,  and  particular  ends  to  answer, 
when  He  calls  away  one  of  his  servants  in'  the  miclst  of 
his  strength,  and  with  every  indication  of  triumph,  and 
when  He  leaves  another  to  spend  not  only  years  in  labour, 
but  months,  and  even  years,  in  the  solitariness  of  his 
chamber,  a  prisoner  on  his  couch.  Dismiss  then  the 
thought,  that  there  is  any  thing  strange  in  the  lingering 
sicknesses,  the  long-delayed  deaths,  of  Christians  who  have 
given  full  evidence  of  their  faith  and  their  piety.  They 
are  ready,  they  are  fit,  to  die,  if  by  readiness,  if  by  fitness, 
you  mean  such  a  spiritual  state  that  hope  might  justly 
plant  itself  by  their  grave,  and  smile  beautifully  as  they 
were  committed  to  its  cold  embrace.  But  God  putteth 
not  in  the  sickle,  because  He  has  still  work  for  them  to  do, 
and  Heaven  has  still  prizes  for  them  to  win.  Therefore 
do  they  live.  Therefore  is  the  lamp  so  long  in  going  out. 
They  live  that  they  may  preach,  they  live  that  they  may 
practise,  Christianity.  The  lamp  yet  burns,  that  the 
flickering  light  may  guide  some  wandering  or  wavering 
spirit,  and  add  another  sparkle  to  the  crown  of  righteous- 
ness which  shall  be  awarded  at  the  Judgment.  O,  then, 
marvel  not  that  death  comes  so  slowly ;  the  mercy  is  that 
it  comes  not  more  quickly.  And  whenever  the  old  and 
worn-down  man  falls  sick  of  the  sickness  whereof  he  must 
die,  look  not  on  him  as  he  lingers,  as  on  one  who  can  be 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  319 

of  no  further  use  ;  rather  regard  him  as  still  an  efficient 
labourer  in  the  highest  of  causes. 

The  aged  believer,  whose  closiug  scene  has  been  re- 
garded as  furnishing  only  material  of  melancholy  contrast, 
whether  with  his  own  more  active  days,  or  with  the  more 
rapid  and  joyful  transition  of  many  brethren  in  the  flesh, 
so  debilitated  has  he  been  by  long  sickness,  "  My  heart  is 
smitten  and  withered  like  grass,  so  that  I  forget  to  eat  my 
bread ;"  he  often  wins  after  death  a  testimony  to  his  use- 
fulness which  may  well  compensate  the  darkness  which 
seemed  to  cloud  his  decline.  The  good  deeds  wrought  by 
him  in  his  protracted  illness,  may  not  immediately  appear. 
But,  afterwards,  we  learn  that  he  did  not  linger  in  vain, 
that  he  did  not  die  in  vain.  The  example  is  remembered, 
the  patience,  the  meekness,  remembered  by  children,  by 
servants,  by  friends,  by  neighbours.  It  is  remembered,  to 
be  imitated,  in  their  own  day  of  sorrow,  their  own  hour 
of  dissolution.  Then  it  administers  courage,  constancy, 
hope.  Oh  !  we  may  suffer  much,  we  may  linger  long;  no 
burning  rapture  may  characterize  our  going  hence.  But 
if  there  be  patient  submission  to  the  will  of  the  Lord,  our 
memory  may  survive,  and  be  instrumental  to  the  victories 
of  religion.  Ah !  then,  who  has  any  thing  to  say  as  to 
the  inconsistency  of  our  text  with  the  known  experience, 
the  protracted  sufferings,  the  tedious  old  age  of  nianv  of 
the  righteous?  Useful  to  the  last  moment,  doing  God's 
work  in  dying  as  well  as  in  living,  nay,  winning  it  may  be 
a  higher  throne,  and  a  richer  crown,  at  the  very  instant 
of  breathing  out  the  soul,  why  it  is  not  more  true,  that 
"the  earth  briugeth  forth  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear, 
after   that  the  full   corn    in    the  ear,1'  than  that,  "  when 


320  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

the  fruit   is   put   forth,    immediately  he   putteth   iu   the 
sickle." 

Now  we  said  that  we  would  not  enter  on  the  illustra- 
tion of  the  parable,  considered  as  delineating  the  history 
of  the  Church.  We  should  not  have  space  for  the  inquiry. 
We  will  only  remark  that  the  Church,  from  the  first,  has 
been  God's  witness  upon  earth,  and  that,  when  her  testi- 
mony shall  have  been  fully  delivered,  the  end  will  have 
come,  and  the  dispensation  will  be  closed.  The  ripeness 
of  the  Church  will  be,  when  it  shall  have  witnessed  for  all 
the  truths  which  are  to  be  opposed  by  the  heretical  and 
the  infidel.  Already  has  the  protest  been  uttered  on 
behalf  of  those  doctrines,  referring  both  to  man  and  the 
Mediator,  which  are  nothing  less  than  the  life's  blood  of 
Christianity.  If  you  trace  heresy  downwards,  from  the 
Apostles'  clays  to  our  own,  you  find  it  fastening  itself  suc- 
cessively on  the  several  truths  of  our  faith,  so  that  there 
is  scarce  a  fraction  which  has  not  been  assaulted,  and  in 
defence  of  which  the  Church  has  not  shown  itself  Protest- 
ant. What  then  remains  to  the  rendering  the  Church 
fully  ripe  ?  We  find  from  the  Scriptures  that  one  great 
feature  of  the  last  times  shall  be  disbelief  or  denial  of  the 
second  Advent  of  Christ.  As  in  other  days  of  the  dispen- 
sation, so  in  the  concluding,  there  shall  be  abroad  the 
covetous,  the  blasphemers,  the  traitors,  the  high-minded, 
and  all  those  manifestations  of  evil  which  have  ever  called 
forth  the  protest  of  the  Church.  But,  over  and  above 
these  forms  of  wickedness,  scorn ers  shall  be  walking  the 
earth,  arguing,  from  the  apparent  fixedness  of  things,  to 
the  improbability  of  Christ's  interference,  and  tauntingly 
asking,  "  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ?"     Here,  it 


XVI.]  SOWING  THE  SEED.  321 

may  be,  will  be  the  last  and  most  energetic  demand  on 
the  witness.  The  Church  must  oppose  itself  to  this  new 
and  desperate  infidelity.  She  must  protest  for  the  Advent 
of  the  Lord  against  the  denial  and  reviling  of  a  profligate 
generation.  And  when  the  Church  shall  have  done  this, 
witnessed  that  Christ  is  about  to  re-appear,  and  invoke  a 
scoffing  world  to  prepare  for  his  approach,  then,  it  may 
be,  will  her  perfect  ripeness  be  reached,  and  then,  in 
accordance  with  the  parable,  the  fruit  being  brought  forth, 
Christ  shall  "  immediately  put  in  the  sickle,"  gather  in  the 
corn,  and  house  his  elect,  ere  vengeance  be  let  loose  on 
the  impenitent  and  unbelieving. 

But  we  will  not  pursue  this  inquiry  further.  For  an 
instant  we  would  recur  to  that  application  of  the  parable 
which  has  to  do  with  yourselves  as  the  field,  and  with  a 
minister  as  the  husbandman.  We  have  spoken  of  the 
utter  weakness  of  the  spiritual  labourer,  a  weakness  so 
great,  that,  though  he  may  rise  night  and  day,  and  spare 
no  pains,  and  decline  no  toil,  he  cannot  ensure  one  shred  of 
produce;  but,  after  planting  and  watering  with  all  the 
carefulness  of  one,  who  knows  himself  admitted  to  an 
office  of  awful  responsibleness,  must  leave  altogether  with 
God  the  giving  an  increase.  It  would  accord  better  with 
the  feelings  and  the  wishes  of  nature,  if  the  sower  might 
do  more  than  thus  ply  assiduously  at  the  business  of  hus- 
bandry ;  or  if,  at  the  least,  he  might  have  an  assurance 
that  some  portion  of  the  seed  which  he  scatters  shall  "  take 
root  downwards,  and  bear  fruit  upwards."  But,  whilst 
even  this  is  denied  him,  and  he  may  perhaps  toil  on,  year 
after  year,  without  sensible  evidence  of  a  blessing  on  his 

labours,  he  has  the  consolation  of  remembering  that,  when 
21 


322  SOWING  THE  SEED.  [Lect. 

the  grain  is  sown,  lie  has  done  his  part,  and  that,  whatever 
the  barrenness,  it  shall  be  no  witness  against  him  at  the 
great  day  of  account. 

How  striking  are  the  words  in  the  prophecies  of  Eze- 
kiel,  "  Nevertheless,  if  thou  warn  the  wicked  of  his  way  to 
turn  from  it,  if  he  do  not  turn  from  his  way,  he  shall  die 
in  his  iniquity,  but  thou  hast  delivered  thy  soul."  When 
shall  we  make  you  feel  that  there  are,  in  strict  truth,  but 
two  parties  in  religion,  God  and  the  soul  ?  What  saith 
Solomon  ?  "  If  thou  be  wise,  thou  shalt  be  wise  for  thy- 
self ;  but  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear  it."  Too 
often  if  a  man  be  spoken  to  of  his  eternal  interests,  if  he 
be  entreated  to  attend  to  them,  and  not  to  put  from  him 
the  gracious  offers  of  the  Gospel,  he  will  receive  his  adviser 
as  though  he  were  asking  some  personal  favour,  and  as 
though  an  obligation  would  be  conferred  by  his  acting  on 
the  suggestion.  But  remember,  we  beseech  of  you,  that 
if  the  minister  be  faithful,  he  is  in  a  great  degree  independ- 
ent. Let  him  sow  the  seed,  and  whether  there  come  up 
the  tares  or  the  wheat ;  whether  the  field  be  wholly  sterile 
or  richly  productive ;  he  has  done  that  which  it  was  his 
duty  to  do.  And  though,  if  he  "  turn  many  to  righteous- 
ness," those  many  shall  make  up  his  diadem,  yet  if  it  be  no 
fault  of  his  that  he  hath  turned  none,  who  will  think  that 
he  must  be  without  a  crown  through  Eternity?  The 
working  out  salvation  is  a  business  which  every  man  must 
carry  on  on  his  own  account — remember  ye  that.  I  cannot 
conduct  it  for  you :  you  cannot  conduct  it  for  me.  The 
prayers  and  tears  of  parents  may  do  much,  the  warnings 
and  entreaties  of  friends  may  do  much,  towards  bringing 
the  sinner  to  a  pause :  but  parents  cannot  save  the  soul  for 


XVI-]  SOWING  THE  SEED. 


323 


you,  friends  cannot  save  the  soul  for  you :  it  lies  between 
you  and  God ;  "  every  man  shall  bear  his  own  burden." 
May  the  Holy  Spirit  make  you  feel  this,  and  drive  you 
to  the  tillage  of  your  own  hearts,  to  the  ploughing  now, 
that  you  may  reap  hereafter ! 


LECTURE  XVII. 


€!ft  tout  Btiltitnk 


Rev.  vii.  9. 


u  After  this  I  beheld,  and,  lo,  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  of  all  nations, 
and  people,  and  kindred,  and  tongues,  stood  before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb, 
clothed  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands." 

Taking  this  vision  in  the  order  in  which  it  occurs  amongst 
the  visions  vouchsafed  to  St.  John  in  his  exile,  it  probably 
delineates  the  happy  estate  of  those  who  had  adhered  to 
Christ  during  the  fierce  persecutions  which  preceded  the 
establishment  of  Christianity  by  Constantine.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  the  book  of  Revelation  is,  in  the  main,  a 
continuous  prophecy,  its  several  parts  belonging  to  several 
seasons  which  follow  successively  in  the  history  of  the 
Church.  But  without  disputing  that,  in  its  primary  im- 
port, our  text  may  relate  to  events  which  have  long  ago 
occurred,  it  were  not  easy  to  doubt,  that  in  its  larger  and 
more  comprehensive  bearings,  it  may  be  taken  as  descrip- 
tive of  the  heavenly  state,  that  condition  of  repose  and 
triumph  which  shall  be  ours,  even  ours,  if  we  be  faithful 
unto  death.  Admitting  that  the  great  multitude,  on  which 
the  Evangelist  was  permitted  to  gaze,  "  clothed  with  white 


THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE 

robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands,"  must  be  regarded  a-  the 
company  of  those,  who,  during  the  early  days  of  Christi- 
anity, witnessed  manfully  for  the  truth,  they  rnu-t  still, 
both   in   number   and   condition,    be    emblematic   of  tl 

Church  in  its  final  glory  and  exaltation ;  and  we  may, 
therefore,  safely  dia  -  ill  reference  to  the  first  fulfilment 
of  the  prophecy,  and  consider  heaven  a-  the  -cene  on  which 
the  Evangelist  gazed,  and  "just  men  made  perfect"  as  con- 
stituting tl  multitude  drawn  together  from  all  p 
of  the  earth. 

It  is,  therefore,  on  snch  notice-  of  the  ally  state  as 

the  words  before   u-  may  furnish,  that  we  design  to  d 
course  on   the  pre  ion.     We  would  refresh  ; 

and  animate  you.  1   as  you  n. 

and    -  <;f  earth,  with  glim]  bin  the 

veil.     We  do  not  indeed  mean  to  address  the 

imagination  :  if  we  did,  there  are  more  dazzling  ] 
in  the  hook  of  1-  we  might  striv 

fore  you  the  New  Jeru-alern,  the   heaven!  rith  its 

gates  of  pearl,  and  its  street-  of  gold.  But  we  think  to 
find  notices  in  the  words  of  our  text,  which,  if  not  bo  re- 
splendent with  the  gorgeous  thing-  of  the  mture,  -hall  yet 
go  closer  home  to  the  heart,  and  minister  more  comfort  to 
those  who  find  themsel  -  -rangers  and  pilgrims  below. 
We  will  not   anti'  what    we  may  have  to  adva:      . 

We  -hall  only  hope  that  we  may  meet  with  what  will 
chf-er  and  sustain  us  amid  "the  changes  and  chance-  of 
this  mortal  life,*'  what  will  keep  alive  in  us  of  the 

exceeding  greatne--  of  "the  recompense  of  tl  ■  :d." 

of  the   de-irahlene-s   of   the   inheritance    re 
above,  as  in  dependence  on  the  teachings  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 


326  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

we  apply  to  our  future  state  the  words  of  the  Evangelist 
John,  "  I  beheld,  and,  lo,  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man 
could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people, 
and  tongues,  stood  before  the  throne,  and  before  the 
Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their 
hands." 

Now,  when  these  words  are  set  before  us  as  descriptive 
of  the  heavenly  state,  it  can  hardly  fail  but  that  the  first 
thing  on  which  the  mind  shall  fasten  will  be  the  expres- 
sion, "a  great  multitude,  which  no  man  could  number." 
It  is  so  in  regard  of  parallel  sayings,  "  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions."  "  Many  shall  come  from  the 
east  and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven."  "  A  great  mul- 
titude," "  many  mansions,"  "  many  shall  come."  But  what 
are  "  many,"  in  the  Divine  arithmetic  ?  Doubtless  thou- 
sands, and  tens  of  thousands ;  yea,  an  innumerable  com- 
pany. Many  are  the  worlds  scattered  through  immensity 
— wrho  shall  reckon  them?  Many  are  the  leaves  of  the 
earth's  forests — who  shall  compute  them  ?  Many  are  the 
grains  of  sand  on  the  sea  shore — who  shall  count  them  up  ? 
Neither  may  we  think  to  compass  the  multitude  that  St. 
John  saw  "  before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb ;" 
indeed,  he  tells  us  this,  when  he  adds,  "which  no  man 
could  number."  But  it  is  a  comforting  thing  to  be  told 
that  "  a  great  multitude,"  not  "  great"  on  a  mere  human 
estimate,  but  "great"  on  a  Divine,  shall  press  into  the 
inheritance  purchased  by  Christ's  blood.  Then  not  only 
is  Heaven  no  narrow,  no  contracted  spot;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  spacious  enough  for  myriads  upon  myriads  of 
happy  beings:  but  these  myriads  upon  myriads  shall  be 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  327 

there :  the  vast  expanse  shall  not  staDd  empty,  but  shall 
be  occupied  by  a  rejoicing  and  adequate  assembly. 

It  is  a  refreshing  thing  to  look  away  for  a  moment, 
from  the  strife  and  uncharitableness  of  human  systems 
and  conclusions,  each  disposed  to  narrow  Heaven  within 
its  own  pale  and  party,  and  to  behold  "  a  multitude,  such 
as  no  man  could  number,"  entering  by  the  gate  into  the 
everlasting  city.  There  is  something  unspeakably  cheering 
in  the  contrast  between  the  representation  furnished  by 
our  text,  and  that  derived  from  the  exclusive  systems  of  a 
miscalled  theology.  If  Heaven  were  to  be  peopled  accord- 
ing to  the  estimate  of  self-opinionated  sects;  if  human 
judgment  were  to  settle  who  shall  be  privileged  to  find 
place  within  its  precincts  ;  not  "  many,'1  but  "  few,"  it  may 
be  very  few,  would  constitute  the  celestial  assembly.  But, 
whilst  we  may  justly  rejoice  in  being  able  to  appeal  from 
human  judgment  to  Divine,  in  having  the  authority  of 
Scripture,  for  not  only  assigning  vast  capacity  to  Heaven, 
but  for  regarding  it  as  the  home  of  an  interminable  throng, 
we  are  to  take  heed  that  we  lower  not  the  conditions  of 
admission,  as  though  the  entrance  must  be  easy,  because  a 
great  multitude  shall  be  there.  The  great,  the  solemn 
truth  remains,  that  "there  shall  enter  into  the  city  noth- 
ing which  defileth,"  "  neither  whatsoever  worketh  abomi- 
nation, or  maketh  a  lie,  but  they  that  are  written  in  the 
Lamb's  book  of  life."  It  may  be  that  human  judgment  is 
vastly  at  fault,  and  that  human  bigotry,  magnifying  or 
idolizing  its  own  tests,  would  exclude  numbers  from  the 
celestial  abode,  who  shall  be  found  amid  its  glorified 
occupants.  But  whilst  this  is  immeasurably  comforting  to 
those,  who,  wearied,  and  almost  terrified  by  theological 


328  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

strife,  can  retire  within  themselves,  and  humbly  venture, 
after  due  searchiug  and  probing  of  the  heart,  to  exclaim 
with  Peter,  "  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things,  thou  knowest 
that  I  love  thee,"  it  affords  no  groundwork  on  which 
others  may  build,  who  are  practically  neglecting  the  great 
salvation.  For  because  God  "seeth  not  as  man  seeth," 
because  He  may  find  in  many  a  meek,  and  contrite,  and 
retiring  spirit,  that  vital  Christianity  which  is  not  to  be 
detected,  nay,  which  may  even  be  denied,  on  the  bringing 
it  to  the  coarse  touchstones  of  human  systems  and  sects, 
this  surely  is  no  encouragement  to  the  wicked,  to  the  care- 
less, to  the  indifferent :  if  man's  intolerance,  or  man's 
ignorance,  leave  not  sufficient  to  make  up  the  "  great  mul- 
titude," at  least  the  deficiency  will  not  be  supplied  by 
man's  impenitence,  obduracy,  or  contempt  of  religion. 

And  a  glance  at  the  context  should  suffice  to  keep 
down  any  rising  thought,  that,  because  there  shall  be  "  a 
great  multitude"  in  Heaven,  and,  therefore,  perhaps  num- 
bers whom  their  fellow-men  never  expected  to  be  there, 
some  may  find  admission  who  have  taken  no  pains  to 
secure  so  great  a  blessing.  "  What  are  these,"  it  is  asked, 
"  which  are  arrayed  in  white  robes,  and  whence  came 
they  ?"  The  answer  is,  "  These  are  they  which  came  out 
of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  So  far  then 
from  there  being  any  thing  for  you  to  reckon  upon,  ye 
who  are  not  striving  after  a  moral  fitness  for  Heaven,  in 
the  alleged  vastness  of  the  multitude  which  is  to  occupy 
Heaven,  there  is  much  to  admonish  and  warn  you  :  if  ye 
know  nothing  of  the  "great  tribulation,"  qf  the  warfare 
with  "  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,"  ye  may  forfeit 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  329 

your  places,  the  places  which  were  made  yours,  when  God 
graciously  admitted  you  into  his  Church :  but  those  places 
will  not  stand  empty :  "  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to 
raise  up  children  unto  Abraham;"  and  He  will  not  be 
reduced,  through  the  want  of  faithful  disciples,  to  the 
admitting  into  his  presence  the  rebellious,  and  unclean. 
And  Christendom,  with  all  the  advantages  which  it  has 
long  enjoyed,  may  not  furnish  a  population  for  the  New 
Jerusalem  :  but  other  nations  and  tribes  and  tongues,  con- 
tinents, and  islands,  long,  and  even  still,  oppressed  with 
ignorance  and  superstition,  shall  receive  gratefully  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  and  swell  the  ranks  of  his  Church. 

Yea,  and  over  and  above  there  being  a  warning  to  us 
in  the  fact,  that  Heaven  shall  be  peopled  to  the  full,  even 
should  we  ourselves  come  short  of  the  inheritance,  is  it 
not  an  animating  thing  to  be  told  of  all  "  nations,  and 
people,  and  kindreds,  and  tongues,"  as  contributing  to  the 
occupancy  of  the  majestic  abode  ?  The  heart  of  the  true 
Christian  is  sorrowful  within  him,  as  he  thinks  of  the 
dominion  of  Paganism.  He  grieves  over  the  vast  and 
rich  districts  of  the  earth,  which  are  inhabited  by  the 
worshippers  of  idols,  and  could  almost  despair — so  in- 
veterate and  deep-rooted  appears  the  empire  of  Satan — of 
the  spread  and  triumph  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  But 
"lo,  a  great  multitude,  of  all  nations,  and  people,  and 
kindreds,  and  tongues."  The  purpose  of  the  Lord  is  fixed  : 
"  the  idols  he  shall  utterly  abolish :"  the  march  of  Chris- 
tianity may  have  been  slow  and  impeded ;  but  the  truth 
shall  yet  prosper  and  prevail;  and  faith,  guided  by  the 
sure  word  of  prophecy,  may  even  now  behold  the  wild 
children    of  the    desert,  the    wanderers   whose    hand   is 


330  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

against  every  man,  and  every  man's  Land  against  them, 
the  slaves  of  bloody  rites,  the  victims  of  fearful  delusions, 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  "  clothed  and  in  their  right 
mind,"  and  "  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light."  O  glorious  society  which  shall  thus  be  gathered 
from  all  ages,  all  ranks,  all  countries !  There  is  beauty  in 
diversity,  there  is  majesty  in  combination.  I  kindle  at  the 
thought  of  there  being  "  a  great  multitude"  in  Heaven : 
I  kindle  yet  more  at  that  of  this  multitude  being  drawn 
from  every  nation,  and  tribe,  and  tongue.  What  a  throng 
to  join !  what  a  company  with  which  to  associate,  and 
enter  into  fellowship !  The  righteous  of  past  days,  of 
present,  of  future — those  who,  under  earlier  dispensations, 
caught  faint  glimpses  of  the  star  of  Bethlelem ;  those  who, 
possessing  but  the  few  and  brief  notices  of  traditional 
religion,  felt  after  God,  and  proved  that  He  had  never 
left  Himself  without  witness ;  Jews  who  deciphered  the 
types,  and  gave  substance  to  the  shadows  of  the  law ; 
Gentiles  on  whom  shone,  in  all  its  effulgence,  the  light  of 
the  Gospel ;  the  mighty  gatherings  of  that  splendid  season, 
when  "the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall 
cover  the  earth,  as  the  waters  do  the  sea" — what  a  multi- 
tude through  which  to  move,  with  which  to  make  ac- 
quaintance, with  which  to  hold  converse ! 

Even  now,  it  is  felt  to  be  an  ennobling,  inspiriting  asso- 
ciation, if  the  eminent  of  a  single  Church,  the  illustrious 
of  a  solitary  country,  be  gathered  together  in  one  great 
conclave.  How  do  meaner  men  flock  to  the  spot :  with 
what  interest,  what  awe,  do  they  look  upon  persons,  so 
renowned  in  their  day  :  what  a  privilege  Ao  they  account 
it,  if  they  may  mingle  a  while  with  sages  so  profound,  with 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  331 

saints  so  devoted :  how  do  they  treasure  the  sayings  which 
reach  them  in  so  precious  an  intercourse.  And  shall  we 
think  little  of  Heaven,  when  we  hear  of  it  as  the  meeting- 
place  of  all  that  hath  been  truly  great,  for  of  all  that  hath 
been  truly  good  5  of  all  that  hath  been  really  wise,  for  of 
all  that  hath  yielded  itself  to  the  teachings  of  God's 
Spirit ;  from  Adam  to  his  remotest  descendant  ?  Nay, 
"  let  us  fear,  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of  entering  into 
that  rest,  any  of  us  should  seem  to  come  short."  There  is 
a  voice  to  us  from  the  "  great  multitude,"  who  flock  with  a 
sound,  like  the  rush  of  many  waters,  from  all  nations  and 
tribes.  "  A  great  multitude" — there  is  room  then  for  us. 
"  A  great  multitude" — there  will  be  no  deficiency  without 
us.  We  can  be  spared :  the  loss  will  be  ours :  but,  oh, 
what  a  loss ;  and  what  an  aggravation  of  that  loss  that, 
perhaps,  as  we  go  away  into  outer  darkness,  "  where  shall 
be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth,"  we  shall  see  those  who 
were  once  strangers  and  aliens,  flocking  into  the  places 
which  might  have  been  ours,  and  be  witnesses  to  the  lit- 
eral accomplishment  of  the  vision,  "  Lo,  a  great  multitude, 
which  no  man  could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  people, 
and  kindreds,  and  tongues." 

But  it  is  not  merely  as  asserting  the  vastness  of  the  mul- 
titude which  shall  finally  be  gathered  into  Heaven,  that 
our  text  presents  matter  for  devout  meditation.  We  are 
not  to  overlook  the  attitude  assigned  to  the  celestial  assem- 
bly, an  attitude  of  rest  and  of  triumph,  as  though  there 
had  been  labour  and  warfare,  and  the  wearied  combatants 
were  henceforward  to  enjoy  unbroken  quiet.  "  They  stood 
before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with 
white  robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands."      This   exactly 


332  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

answers  to  the  assertion  already  quoted,  that  they  had 
come  "  out  of  great  tribulation,"  and  denotes — for  such  is 
the  inference  from  the  robes  which  they  wore,  and  the 
palms  which  they  carried,  both  appertaining  to  conquerors 
— that  all  warfare  was  at  end,  and  that  there  remained 
nothing  henceforward  but  the  enjoyment  of  deep  repose 
in  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  The  imagery  of  the  passage 
is  derived,  you  observe,  from  the  triumphs  of  victors. 
Spiritual  things  can  only  be  shadowed  forth  to  us  by 
material ;  and  without  pretending  to  decide  that  the 
material  is  never  to  be  literally  taken, — for  who,  remem- 
bering that  man  is  to  be  everlastingly  compounded  of 
body  and  soul,  will  venture  to  determine  that  there  shall  be 
nothing  but  what  is  purely  spiritual  in  the  future  economy  ? 
who,  when  he  reads  of  new  Heavens,  and  a  new  earth, 
will  rashly  conclude,  that,  for  such  a  being  as  man  is  to  be, 
there  cannot  be  reserved  an  abode  rich  in  all  the  splen- 
dours of  a  most  refined  materialism,  presenting  correspond- 
ences to  the  golden  streets,  and  the  jewelled  walls,  and 
the  crystal  waters,  which  passed  in  such  gorgeous  and  beau- 
tiful vision  before  the  Evangelist  ? — but,  waving  the  con- 
sideration that  there  may  be  something  more  than  mere 
figure,  something  of  literal  and  actual  import,  in  these 
Scriptural  delineations  of  Heaven,  the  robe,  the  palm,  the 
harp,  we  may  all  feel  how  expressive  is  the  imagery  of 
triumphant  repose  after  toil  and  conflict,  when  applied  to 
the  state  reserved  for  those  who  shall  be  faithful  unto 
death.  Not  that  by  repose  we  are  to  understand  inactivity, 
for  Scripture  is  most  express  on  the  continued  engagement 
of  every  faculty  of  a  glorified  saint  in  the  services  of  the 
Creator  and  Redeemer.     The  great  multitude  stand  before 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  333 

the  throne — the  attitude  implying  that  they  wait  to  execute 
the  commands  of  the  Lord  ;  and  they  join  in  a  high  song 
of  praise  and  exultation,  "  Salvation  to  our  God  which 
sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb."  No  idle- 
ness then,  though  there  is  perfect  repose.  But  rest,  as 
opposed  to  any  thing  that  is  painful  or  toilsome  in  em- 
ployment— repose,  as  implying  that  there  shall  never  again 
be  weariness,  exhaustion,  difficulty,  or  danger,  notwithstand- 
ing that  there  shall  be  the  consecration  of  the  whole  man 
to  the  work  of  magnifying  the  Lord — this  it  is  which  is 
promised  as  the  portion  of  the  righteous ;  and  this  it  is 
which  is  imaged  by  the  palm  in  the  hand,  and  the  song 
upon  the  lip. 

Take  even  that  figure  which  is  so  common  in  Scripture, 
that  of  reclining  at  a  banquet,  as  emblematic  of  Heaven ; 
and  the  figure  does  not  portray  idleness,  though  it  largely 
does  repose.  Even  guests  at  a  feast  are  not  necessarily 
idle,  nor  necessarily  intent  on  mere  luxurious  indulgence. 
Amid  all  the  pomp  and  bravery  of  the  gorgeous  enter- 
tainment, there  may  be  the  lofty  discussion,  and  the  keen 
play  of  intellectual  power,  and  the  collision  of  mind  with 
mind,  producing  new  and  rich  sparks  of  thought,  and  the 
circulation  of  profound  discoveries  in  science,  or  of  import- 
ant occurrences  in  the  world — so  that  a  man  may  depart 
from  the  festival  as  from  a  field  of  mental  encounter  and 
improvement,  on  which  he  has  taken  many  a  forward  step 
in  power  and  in  knowledge.  And  whilst  we  believe  of 
Heaven,  that  there  shall  be  all  that  disengagement  from 
laborious  effort,  or  oppressive  occupation,  which  seems 
expressed  in  the  figure  of  reclining  at  a  banquet,  or  stand- 
ing before  the  Lamb,  clad  in  white  robes,  with  the  palm 


334  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect 

in  the  hand,  we  believe  also  that  there  shall  be  no  cessa- 
tion from  a  service  which  is  perfect  freedom,  and  none 
from  an  employment  which  will  itself  constitute  happi- 
ness. 

But  what  an  attractive,  what  an  animating  view  of 
heaven,  is  that  of  its  being  a  state  of  repose,  as  contrasted 
with  our  present  state  of  warfare  and  toil — the  white  robe, 
in  place  of  the  "  whole  armour  of  God ;"  the  palm,  in 
place  of  the  sword,  in  the  hand.  He  must  be,  I  will  not  say 
a  strange  man,  but  certainly  a  strange  Christian,  who  is 
never  conscious  of  a  painful  pressure  from  the  duties  and 
trials  of  life,  who  is  never  inclined,  to  exclaim  with  the 
Psalmist,  "  Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove ;  then  would  I 
flee  away  and  be  at  rest."  I  cannot  enter  into  the  experi- 
ence of  that  Christian,  his  life  is  a  mystery  to  me,  for 
whom  there  is  no  soothing,  heart-touching  sound  in  the 
words  of  the  Apostle,  "  There  remaineth,  therefore,  a  rest 
for  the  people  of  God."  For  let  the  course  of  the  Divine 
dealings  with  any  member  of  the  Church  be  the  very 
smoothest  that  is  compatible  with  a  state  of  probation, 
still,  compassed  about  as  we  all  are  with  infirmity,  called 
upon  to  do  many  things  to  which  we  are  naturally  disin- 
clined; which  we  can  neither  perform  without  painful 
effort,  nor  omit  without  sinful  neglect ;  exposed  to  tempta- 
tions from  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  bearing 
about  within  ourselves  a  principle  of  corruption,  which 
continually  strives  to  regain  the  ascendancy,  and  which  is 
not  to  be  kept  down  but  by  prayer  without  ceasing, 
watchfulness  without  fainting — indeed,  it  were  hard  to  un- 
derstand how  any  believer  could  often  be  other  than  "  weary 
and  heavy  laden,"  and  required  to  take. heed  against  that  im- 


XVII.]  THE  GliEAT  MULTITUDE.  335 

patience  at  the  burdens  of  life,  which  would  show  itself 
in  undue  eagerness  for  the  repose  of  eternity.  It  is  not 
that  he  would  give  up  the  service  of  God,  but  that  he 
would  be  able  to  serve  God  without  weariness.  It  is  not 
that  he  would  rest  from  holy  employment,  but  that  he 
would  have  employment  entail  no  necessity  for  rest. 
It  is  not  that  he  would  be  released  from  the  struggle 
with  corruption,  but  that  he  would  have  no  corruption  to 
struggle  with,  the  final  touches  of  sanctification  having  been 
given,  so  that  he  is  "  without  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such 
thing."  It  is  not  that  he  would  make  peace  with  spiritual 
enemies,  but  that  he  would  be  surrounded  with  none  but 
spiritual  friends. 

And  such  a  state  of  repose  awaits  us  in  heaven.  There 
shall  be  no  weariness  there — "  they  rest  not  day  nor  night," 
employing  every  power  on  the  doing  God's  will,  and  yet 
sensible  to  nothing  but  the  delightfulness  of  the  employ- 
ment. There  no  evil  nature  shall  ply  the  believer  with 
temptations  to  sin.  There  no  subtle  adversary  shall  lie  in 
wait  to  deceive,  no  roaring  lion  seek  whom  he  may  devour. 
O  blessed  estate  !  There  is  more  of  music  in  that  one  word 
"  rest,"  than  in  all  that  pealing  anthem  which,  taken  up  in 
St.  John's  hearing  by  "  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven, 
and  on  the  earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such  as  are  in 
the  sea,"  filled  the  temple  in  the  midst  of  which  was  the 
throne  of  the  Almighty.  And  I  ask  not  to  be  told  what 
those  palms  may  be  which  the  victors  carry  in  their  hands, 
nor  what  those  shining  robes  wherein  they  are  arrayed — 
for,  as  yet,  I  may  be  poorly  fitted  to  understand,  to  appre- 
ciate, heavenly  happiness.  But  I  can  feel  something  of 
the    comforting    power   of    the    sublime   announcement, 


336  THE  CHEAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

"  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord :  yea,  saith 
the  Spirit,  for  they  rest  from  their  labour,  and  their  works 
do  follow  them."  I  can  gaze  on  the  "great  multitude," 
as  they  flock  from  all  nations  and  tribes  ;  and  I  can  long 
and  pray  to  be  found  at  last  in  their  number,  not  because 
I  know  precisely  what  the  joys  are  of  which  they  are 
about  to  partake ;  but  because,  at  least,  I  know  that  they 
are  exchanging  warfare  for  peace,  danger  for  security, 
tumult  for  quiet,  corruption  for  incorruption — yea,  I  know 
of  this  multitude,  that  they  are  to  stand  "  before  the 
throne,  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes, 
and  palms  in  their  hands." 

There  is  another  distinguishing  feature  of  the  heavenly 
state  which  may  be  gathered  from  our  text.  You  cannot 
fail  to  observe,  that,  though  the  great  multitude  is  col- 
lected from  all  nations  and  tribes,  there  is  perfect  concord 
or  agreement;  they  form  but  one  company  and  join  in 
one  anthem.  The  representation  is  much  the  same  as  is 
furnished  by  the  saying  of  our  Lord,  "  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions."  There  are  "  many  mansions," 
you  observe — just  as  St.  John  beheld  "  a  great  multitude  :" 
but  there  is  only  one  house.  As  though  Christ  had  said, 
There  is  room  for  as  many  as  will  enter,  and  there  shall  be 
but  one  roof  over  all.  There  is  something  very  beautiful 
in  the  representation  of  the  innumerable  company  of  the 
redeemed  as  constituting,  through  eternity,  only  one  house- 
hold. It  is  melancholy  to  think  how  the  visible  Church 
of  Christ  has  been  divided  and  rent,  so  that  the  aspect  of 
those  who  equally  profess  Christianity  is  as  far  removed  as 
possible  from  the  aspect  of  a  family.  The  slightest  causes 
seem  to  have  been  sufficient  for  violations  of  that  brother- 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  337 

hood,  wliich  ought  to  have  subsisted  amongst  men,  and, 
yet  more,  amongst  Christians  ;  so  that  there  has  not  been 
a  thousandth  part  of  the  zeal  in  avoiding  offences,  as  in 
magnifying  into  importance  whatever  might  be  an  apology 
for  a  division.  But  the  words  of  our  text  assure  us  that 
nothing  of  these  differences  and  separations  shall  follow  us 
through  eternity.  The  redeemed  are  to  constitute  one  re- 
joicing company.  Nay,  and  the  representation  may  almost 
be  said  to  go  beyond  this.  How  are  they  to  constitute 
this  one  company,  associated  by  close  ties,  and  joining  in 
the  same  song,  unless  they  are  to  know  one  the  other  here- 
after ?  When  Christ  speaks  of  many  as  coining  from  the 
east  and  the  west,  He  speaks  also  of  their  sitting  down 
with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  But  this  were  ap- 
parently no  privilege,  unless  they  are  to  know  these  pa- 
triarchs. So  also  if  men  of  all  nations  and  tribes  and 
tongues  are  to  make  up  one  family,  it  can  hardly  be 
doubted,  that  every  one  will  know  every  other.  And  if 
they  are  to  be  known,  the  one  to  the  other,  who  have  been 
utterly  separated  upon  earth,  we  may  be  sure  as  to  that  of 
which  some  have  doubted,  and  on  which  many  have  longed 
for  more  express  revelation,  the  recognition  of  one  the 
other  in  the  world  above,  by  those  who  have  been  friends 
or  kinsmen  below. 

We  need  not  say  to  you  that  it  is  a  very  interesting 
feature  in  heavenly  happiness,  that  of  the  renewal  of  the 
acquaintances  and  associations  which  have  been  our  chief 
joy  on  earth.  There  is  no  fear  of  our  not  dwelling  with 
delight  on  such  a  feature :  the  fear  is  rather  the  other  way, 
of  our  suffering  the  mind  to  be  engrossed  with  the  pros- 
pect of  re-union  with  the  dead,  as  though  the  again  meet- 
22 


338  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

ing  those  whom  we  have  loved  were  what  should  especially 
make  Heaven  desirable.  This  cannot  be  the  risrht  view  of 
Heaven.  Whether  or  not  we  can  feel  or  understand  how 
such  a  thing  may  be,  it  is  evident  that  Heaven  must  be  in- 
dependent on  earthly  associations,  independent  in  the 
sense  that  its  happiness  will  be  perfect,  even  should  a  saint 
stand  alone,  as  perhaps  many  will  stand,  without  kinsman, 
without  friend,  in  the  shining  assembly.  But  the  certainty 
that  Heaven  will  not  require,  in  order  to  its  being  a  place 
of  perfect  happiness,  the  presence  of  the  objects  of  earthly 
affection,  is  quite  consistent  with  the  belief,  that,  if  friends 
and  kinsmen  meet  above,  they  shall  know  one  the  other, 
and  derive  from  their  meeting  new  elements  of  rapture 
and  joy.  That  God  Himself  will  so  supply  the  place  of 
the  absent  as  that  they  shall  not  be  missed — this  is  noways 
at  variance  with  the  truth,  that,  when  those  who  have  been 
parted  below  find  themselves  fellow-heirs  of  the  kingdom, 
they  shall  experience  intense  gladness  in  renewing  their 
friendship,  in  again  becoming  bound  the  one  to  the  other, 
though  in  a  high  and  pure  and  happy  association,  such  as 
was  hardly  even  imaged  by  the  most  affectionate  upon 
earth. 

There  is  no  need,  in  order  to  our  excluding  from  our 
pictures  and  anticipations  of  Heaven  the  selfishness  and 
contractedness  of  human  families,  that  we  should  deny  all 
play  hereafter  to  the  best  charities  of  our  nature,  and 
seek  to  persuade  those,  who  are  weeping  for  the  dead 
that  have  died  in  the  Lord,  that  because  "  in  the  resur- 
rection they  neither  marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage," 
therefore,  in  the  resurrection,  the  stranger  shall  be  all  the 
same   as   the  friend,  and  the  friend  all  the  same  as  the 


XVII.J  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  339 

stranger.  There  is  no  need,  even  now,  that,  if  a  man  grow- 
more  benevolent  and  philanthropic,  enlarging  as  it  were 
his  heart,  so  that  he  daily  embraces  within  its  affections 
more  and  more  of  his  kind,  he  should  therefore  become 
less  warmly  attached  to  his  more  immediate  family — on 
the  contrary,  we  may  believe,  that,  in  proportion  as  he 
came  the  nearer  to  the  loving  all  men  as  himself,  and  sent 
out,  in  wider  and  wider  expatiations,  the  sensibilities  of  his 
nature,  he  would  find  a  deeper  deliciousness  and  delight  in 
his  own  domestic  nest,  and  cling  all  the  more  tenderly  to 
those,  whom  God  had  given  him  to  give  sunshine  to  his 
home.  And  hereafter,  if — as  we  may  be  thoroughly  sure 
will  be  the  case — there  shall  be  an  universal  affectionate- 
ness,  the  myriads  of  the  redeemed  making  up  but  one 
family,  each  knowing,  each  known  and  loved  by,  every 
other,  there  may  yet  be  only  the  more  intimate,  though 
the  more  hallowed,  intercourse  with  those  with  whom  on 
earth  we  had  taken  sweet  counsel ;  and  the  heart,  which 
has  grown  large  enough  to  leave  out  none  in  the  intermi- 
nable throng,  may  have  but  the  wider  and  the  warmer 
abode  for  such  as  were  its  companions  in  the  house  of  its 
pilgrimage. 

And  this  doctrine,  the  doctrine  of  the  renewal  in  Heav- 
en of  the  intimacies  and  associations  of  earth,  may  cer- 
tainly be  considered  as  derivable  from  the  text ;  for  if,  as 
we  have  said,  the  great  multitude,  beheld  by  St.  John, 
constitute  one  family,  though  gathered  from  all  nations 
and  tribes,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  those,  who,  here 
below,  were  strangers  the  one  to  the  other,  become  asso- 
ciated and  acquainted  above  ;  and  it  were  incredible  that 
men  shall  know  those  to  whom  they  had  been  strangers  on 


340  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

earth,  and  yet  be  strangers  to  those  to  whom  they  had 
been  friends.     Still,  they  way  in  which  the  doctrine  of 
future  recognition  is  delivered — not  broadly  stated,  but 
left  to  be  inferred  from  other  announcements — should  lead 
us  to  think  more  of  Heaven  as  of  a  scene  of  enlarged  asso- 
ciation, the  meeting-place,   not  merely  of  divided  house- 
holds, but   of  the  believers  of  every  generation,  of  the 
elect  of  God  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  time.     It 
argues  a  heart  still  bound  up  in  selfishness,  if  it  be  notl> 
ing,  if  it  be  little,  to  us,  that,  admitted  into   heaven,  we 
are  to  be  freed  from  all  petty  bounds  and  distinctions,  and 
to   form   part    of    one   close,    but    countless,    community. 
The   soul    should   be  stirred  within   us,    as  we  think  of 
patriarchs,  and  prophets,  and  priests,  and  kings — of  apos- 
tles, confessors,   and  martyrs;   of  the  illustrious,   not  by 
earthly  achievements,  which  too  often  dazzle  by  a  false 
glare,  and  are  dimmed  with  the  tears  of  the  wronged  and 
afflicted ;    but  the   illustrious   in   the   fight  of  faith,   the 
patience  of  hope,  the  labour  of  love — and  not  only  of  the 
illustrious  whose  names  go  down  in  Christian  biography, 
the  precious  legacy  of  age  to  age,  watchwords  to  the  Church 
when   she   would   rouse   her  fainting   children,  and  keep 
them  to  their  posts  ;  but  of  that  unknown,  that  unremem- 
bered  multitude,  the  good,  the  godly,  of  successive  gener- 
ations, who,  in  the  quiet  privacies  of  ordinary  life,  have 
served  their  God,  and  their  Redeemer,  whose  names  have 
perished  from  every  book  but  that  in  which  to  be  enrolled 
is  to  have  the  citizenship  of  earth,  sea,  air,  the  past,  the 
present,  the  future— for  "He,"  saith  Christ,  "that  over- 
cometh  shall  inherit  all  things" — oh,  I  say,  the  soul  should 
be  stirred  within  us,  as  we  think  of  such  an  assembly,  and 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  341 

hear  ourselves  invited  to  join  it,  and  are  told  that  we  may 
have  the  friendship  of  each  and  every  one  in  the  inter- 
minable gathering. 

I  ask  not  to  be  told  of  the  splendid  adornments  with 
which  the  roof  of  Heaven  shall  be  inlaid — enough  for  me 
that,  according  to  words  already  quoted,  there  is  to  be  but 
one  roof  over  all  the  inhabitants.  The  representations  of 
the  future,  which  address  themselves  most  to  the  heart,  are 
not  those  which  are  gorgeous  with  the  gold  and  precious 
stones :  these  are  the  most  dazzling,  but  not  the  most  pene- 
trating. The  heart  is  to  be  reached  by  what  breathes 
most  of  the  tranquillities  of  universal  love.  And  poetry, 
in  its  longings  for  something  on  which  to  pour  the  splen- 
dour of  its  imagery,  might  seize  on  the  white  robes,  and 
on  the  palms,  with  which  the  ransomed  are  decked :  but 
if  the  soul's  deepest  chords  are  to  be  swept,  then  must  we 
hear  of  the  repose  of  a  home,  and  the  hallowed  charities 
which  weave  themselves  into  a  family  ;  and  all  this  is  inti- 
mated to  us — oh,  that  we  may  be  incited  to  make  it  our 
own  ! — by  the  vision  vouchsafed  to  St.  John,  "  I  beheld, 
and,  lo,  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  of 
all  nations,  and  people,  and  kindreds,  and  tongues,  stood 
before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb." 

"  Before  the  Lamb" — yes,  the  glorified  humanity  of  the 
Redeemer  fixes  by  its  presence  the  position  of  Heaven,  and 
at  the  same  time  gives  it  its  magnificence.  We  know  not 
what  Heaven,  or  the  place  of  separate  spirits,  might  have 
been,  ere  the  mystery  of  godliness  was  revealed,  and  the 
Word  had  been  made  flesh,  and  effected  man's  redemption. 
But  it  could  hardly,  if  we  may  venture  the  expression,  be 
considered  the  same  place  as  now :  for  until  it  contained 


342  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  [Lect. 

the  Lamb  which  had  been  slain,  it  contained  not  what 
makes  Heaven  to  those  who  had  forfeited  their  immor- 
tality. Christ  ascended  triumphantly  the  mediatorial 
throne,  that  He  might  be  the  wellspring  of  joy,  and  the 
fountain  of  glory,  to  the  great  multitude  which  He  had 
purchased  with  His  blood.  There  could  be  no  Heaven  to 
such  as  ourselves  without  Christ :  Heaven  would  be  no 
Heaven  without  Christ :  so  that,  in  entering  Heaven,  Christ 
prepared,  as  He  promised,  a  place  for  his  disciples. 

There  are  possibly  other  characteristics  of  the  heavenly 
state  which  might  be  drawn  from  the  words  which  form 
our  subject  of  discourse.  But  we  have  gone  far  enough. 
We  have  adventured  thus  far,  because  it  may  be  a  whole- 
some and  refreshing  thing,  to  withdraw  occasionally  from 
the  mazes  of  controversy,  the  cares  of  life,  and  the  toils  of 
conflict,  and  to  meditate  on  the  portion  reserved  for  the 
righteous.  But  we  will  not  pass  beyond  what  may  be 
practical .  and  personal.  It  is  not  the  Heaven  which  may 
dazzle  your  imaginations,  but  the  Heaven  which  may  stim- 
ulate your  efforts,  which  we  are  anxious  to  present  to  you. 
Is  not  this  Heaven,  this  place  of  perfect  and  beautiful  re- 
pose, this  meeting-place  of  the  children  of  God — is  not 
this  worth  striving  for,  worth  the  surrender  of  a  few  poor 
indulgences,  worth  the  endurance  of  a  few  brief  trials  ? 
For  shame,  that  you  can  hesitate.  For  shame,  that,  with  a 
Redeemer  at  your  side,  ready  to  impart  all  the  assistance 
which  can  be  needed  to  your  obtaining  the  inheritance, 
you  can  linger  amid  earthly  entanglements,  and  be  so  slow 
in  securing  possession,  if  not  so  indifferent  as  to  letting  it 
slip.  For  shame,  that,  whilst  so  many  are  pressing  in  from' 
all  nations  and  tongues — pressing  from  the  burning  east, 


XVII.]  THE  GREAT  MULTITUDE.  343 

man's  earliest  home :  from  the  distant  west,  so  long  an  un- 
discovered world — you,  the  children  of  the  kingdom,  with 
every  advantage  of  country  and  churchmanship,  can  mani- 
fest so  little  earnestness,  allowing  it  to  be  inferred,  from 
your  apparent  preference  of  the  shadows  and  braveries  of 
earth,  that  you  count  it  but  a  poor  monarchy,  of  which 
Christianity  has  conveyed  to  you  the  promise. 

Let  us  rouse  ourselves,  lest,  what  we  pursue  so  lan- 
guidly, we  miss  eternally.  The  time  is  at  hand.  The 
Judge  standeth  at  the  door.  Already  has  Heaven  gath- 
ered within  its  circuit  the  spoils  of  many  generations. 
Patriarchs  are  there,  aud  prophets,  and  priests,  and  kings. 
The  young  are  there,  the  old  are  there ;  the  men  of  every 
clime  have  pressed  into  the  spacious  dwelling.  But  the 
gate  is  still  open :  "  yet  there  is  room :"  all  of  you  may 
enter  Heaven  :  we  will  not  be  content  that  any  should  be 
outcasts.  I  want  to  meet  you  all  in  a  better  land  :  I  wish 
that  we  might  spend  eternity  together.  Therefore  do  I 
summon  the  careless  to  penitence,  and  the  penitent  to  dili- 
gence. It  may  be  but  a  little  while,  and  the  number  of 
the  redeemed  will  be  accomplished :  it  can  be  but  a  little 
while,  and  our  own  portion  will  be  fixed.  "The  violent," 
saith  our  Saviour,  "  take  the  kingdom  by  force" — oh,  that 
we  may  not  be  of  the  indolent  who  lose  it  by  sloth  ! 


LECTURE  XYIII. 


ftyi  liimmm  txtbnmt. 


Ruth  ii.  20. 


"  And  Naomi  said  unto  her  daughter-in-law,  Blessed  be  he  of  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left 
off  his  kiudness  to  the  living  and  to  the  dead.  And  Naomi  said  unto  her,  The  man  is 
near  of  kin  unto  us,  one  of  our  next  kinsmen." 

You  can  hardly  need  to  be  told  that  a  connection  the  very 
closest  may  be  traced  between  the  Jewish  and  the  Chris- 
tian dispensations.  But  sometimes  this  connection  is 
overlooked,  and  requires  to  be  carefully  examined  and 
explained.  This  is  specially  the  case  in  regard  of  Redemp- 
tion. There  was  Redemption,  a  process  through  which 
things  and  persons  were  redeemed,  under  the  Jewish  dis- 
pensations, as  there  is  under  the  Christian ;  but  we  are  not 
perhaps  so  much  in  the  habit  of  associating  them  as  we 
ought  to  be.  Yet,  one  and  the  same  character  of  a  Re- 
deemer is  kept  up  through  the  whole  of  the  Bible.  The 
Redeemer  under  the  law  is  most  accurately  the  type  of 
the  Redeemer  under  the  Gospel.  There  may  be  no  broad 
or  distinct  allusions  to  Christ.  But  whenever  you  meet 
with  a  transaction  of  Redemption,  whether  it  be  a  Re- 
demption  of  land  or   of  person,  you  will  find  that  the 


THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  345 

matter  is  so  ordered  as  to  be  most  strictly  typical — the 
features  of  our  Redemption  through  Christ  being  unequiv- 
ocally stamped  on  the  legal  arrangements  which  come 
under  review. 

It  will  be  the  chief  object  of  our  discourse  to  make 
good  this  assertion.  We  count  it  an  instructive  and  inter- 
esting thing  to  trace  Redemption  as  kept  always  in  sight ; 
so  that  the  Jews  were  taught,  even  through  the  common 
dealings  of  life,  the  great  spiritual  deliverance  that  was 
wrought  out  in  the  fulness  of  time.  We  are  persuaded, 
that,  in  proportion  as  the  Jewish  code  is  diligently  exam- 
ined, will  it  be  found  to  teem  with  notices  of  our  Redemp- 
tion by  Christ.  God  so  constructed  this  code  that  it 
should  be  virtually  a  system  of  references  to  Christ,  and 
that  thus  the  devout  Jew,  whether  engaging  in  the  solem- 
nities of  the  Temple  worship,  or  busying  himself  with 
temporal  occupations,  might  have  his  attention  turned  to 
that  "seed  of  the  woman,"  who,  in  the  fulness  of  time, 
was  to  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  Himself.  We  do 
not  indeed  mean,  that,  with  the  change  of  dispensation 
have  passed  away  all  these  mementoes  of  the  manner  of 
our  salvation.  We  rather  agree  with  those  who  hold  that 
there  is  still  much  in  the  arrangements  of  Providence, 
which  may  serve  to  remind  us  of  God's  dealings  in  grace. 
There  is  perhaps  nothing  over-fanciful  in  the  thought,  that 
the  food  on  which  we  chiefly  subsist  should  constantly 
suggest  the  idea  of  our  Redemption  through  Christ.  Is 
it  to  be  denied  that  since  the  use  of  animals  for  food,  and 
those  principally  which  were  made  choice  of  in  sacrifice, 
the  world  literally  subsists  by  shedding  of  blood,  so  that 
the  death  of  the  innocent  is  every  day  the  life  of  the 


346  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

guilty  ?  The  meat  which  perisheth  may  well  thus  remind 
us  of  that  meat  which  endureth  unto  life  everlasting ;  and 
the  slaying,  for  the  support  of  the  body,  of  those  beasts 
which  were  once  offered  in  typical  sacrifice,  is  no  slight 
memento,  that,  for  the  support  of  the  soul  there  died  a 
victim  whose  "  flesh  was  meat  indeed,  and  whose  blood 
was  drink  indeed." 

But  to  return  to  the  Jewish  dispensation,  and  to  that 
keeping  up  the  character  of  a  Eedeemer,  upon  which  we 
desire  to  fasten  your  attention.  We  bring  you  a  text  from 
the  book  of  Euth,  in  which,  though  the  word  "kinsman" 
is  used  by  our  translators,  the  marginal  reading,  as  you 
will  observe,  is  "one  that  has  the  right  to  redeem." 
Naomi  is  speaking  of  Boaz,  who  had  shown  great  kindness 
to  Ruth,  whilst  gleaniug  in  his  fields.  Here  and  elsewhere, 
she  calls  Boaz  "  the  kinsman ;"  but  the  word  used  in  the 
Hebrew  is  "  the  Redeemer."  It  was  the  law  amongst  the 
Jews,  that  if  a  man  died  childless,  his  widow  should 
become  the  wife  of  his  brother.  If  there  were  no  breth- 
ren, the  law  seems  to  have  been  extended  to  the  nearest 
relations,  so  that  the  next  of  kin  became  the  husband  of 
the  widow.  Now  Chilion,  the  husband  of  Ruth,  had  died 
in  the  land  of  Moab ;  and  Naomi,  her  mother-in-law,  being 
thus  left  without  a  son,  there  was  no  husband's  brother  to 
take  Ruth  from  her  widowhood.  The  law  therefore  gave 
Ruth  a  marriage  claim  on  the  nearest  of  kin,  and  she 
urged  this  claim  upon  Boaz.  There  was  indeed  a  kinsman 
who  stood  nearer  in  relationship  than  Boaz :  but  he,  re- 
fusing to  perform  the  part  of  a  kinsman,  conceded  to  Boaz 
the  right  of  inheritance.  Boaz  then  honourably  answered 
the  marriage  claim  of  Ruth,  and  receiving  her  as  his  wife, 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  347 

gave  occasion  to  the  friends  of  Naomi  to  exclaim,  "  Blessed 
be  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left  thee  this  day  without  a 
kinsman,"  or  literally  without  a  Eedeemer.  But  if  we 
examine  this  history  a  little  more  attentively,  we  shall 
perceive  that  it  was  not  exactly  his  marrying  Ruth  which 
gained  for  Boaz  the  title  of  Redeemer.  His  challenge  to 
the  man  who  stood  in  closer  relationship,  was,  that  he 
should  buy  a  parcel  of  land  which  Naomi  was  about  to 
sell.  The  nearer  kinsman  refusing,  Boaz  himself  bought 
the  land,  or,  as  the  Scriptural  phrase  is,  redeemed  the 
land ;  and  it  was  this  purchasing  the  inheritance,  and  so 
preventing  it  from  passing  to  strangers,  which  caused  Boaz 
to  stand  in  the  position  of  Redeemer. 

And  if  we  look  into  the  law  of  Moses,  we  shall  find 
three  states  which  are  marked  out  as  requiring  the  inter- 
position of  a  Redeemer.  If  there  had  been  forfeiture  of 
inheritance,  or  if  there  had  been  loss  of  liberty,  or  if  there 
had  been  shedding  of  blood — in  each  of  these  cases  it  was 
enjoined  that  the  Goel— for  such  is  the  Hebrew  name— 
this  Goel  or  Redeemer  being  always  the  nearest  of  kin, 
should  interfere  on  behalf  of  the  distressed  individual. 
And  our  desire  is  to  show  you,  that,  whenever  the  law 
directed  the  interposition  of  the  Goel  or  Redeemer,  it  gave 
a  typical  lesson  on  the  offices  of  Christ.  The  occasions 
which  produced  the  interference  of  the  legal  Redeemer, 
and  the  manner  in  which  that  interference  was  conducted ; 
these  bear  so  accurate  a  reference  to  the  Gospel  Redeemer, 
that  we  cannot  doubt  it  to  have  been  the  mind  of  the 
Spirit,  to  keep  the  grand  scheme  of  human  Redemption 
always  present  to  the  people  of  Israel.  We  will  take  in 
succession  the  three  cases  in  which  the  Goel  or  Redeemer 


348  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

was  bidden  to  interfere — the  forfeiture  of  inheritance,  the 
loss  of  liberty,  the  shedding  of  blood — and,  examining 
each  transaction  under  its  legal  description,  strive  to  show 
you  the  fidelity  with  which  it  imaged  the  deliverance 
wrought  out  for  us  by  Christ — Christ,  of  whom  we  may 
most  emphatically  say,  in  the  language  of  our  text,  "  The 
man  is  near  of  kin  unto  us,  one  of  our  next  kinsmen," 
"  Blessed  be  he  of  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left  off  his  kind- 
ness to  the  living  and  to  the  dead." 

We  begin  with  the  forfeiture  of  inheritance.  You  will 
find  in  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  the  book  of  Leviticus 
directions  given  for  the  interference  of  the  Goel.  If  an 
Israelite  had  become  poor,  and  had  sold  away  some  of  his 
possession,  the  nearest  of  kin,  called  the  Goel  or  Redeemer, 
was  directed,  if  possible,  to  purchase  or  redeem  the  land. 
In  this  case  it  became  the  property  of  the  Goel  until 
the  year  of  Jubilee,  when  it  went  back  to  the  original 
proprietor.  The  alienated  or  forfeited  possession  might, 
at  any  time,  be  redeemed  by  the  first  owner,  supposing 
him  able  to  pay  the  price  of  Redemption.  But  if  he  were 
not  able,  then  none  but  the  Goel  could  redeem  it  for  him  ; 
and  if  the  Goel  came  not  forward,  no  stranger  might  inter- 
fere ;  the  possession  must  remain  unredeemed. 

Now  there  can  be  no  difficulty  in  at  once  discerning  the 
typical  character  of  this  transaction.  We  fasten,  first  of 
all,  upon  the  fact — a  fact  which  is  learned  equally  from 
each  of  the  three  cases  of  legal  Redemption — that  none 
but  a  kinsman  could  fill  the  office  of  Goel  or  Redeemer. 
It  was  not  enough  that  an  individual  might  be  ready  to 
come  forwards  on  behalf  of  the  impoverished  Israelite. 
Had  he  the  rights  of  the  closest  kinsmanship  ?     If  not,  the 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  349 

law  altogether  refused  to  allow  the  interposition :  its  fun- 
damental principle,  in  all  such  cases,  appearing  to  have 
been,  that  kinsmanship  was  indispensable  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  a  Redeemer.  And  who  sees  not,  that,  in  laying 
down  and  adhering  to  such  a  principle  as  this,  the  law 
taught  impressively  the  lesson,  that  He  who  should  arise, 
the  Goel  of  a  lost  world,  must  be  bone  of  their  bone,  and 
flesh  of  their  flesh  ?  It  would  have  been  nothing,  that 
rank  upon  rank  of  celestial  intelligence  should  rush  eagerly 
forwards,  and,  compassionating  the  ruined  estate  of  our 
race,  offer  to  devote  their  magnificent  energies  to  the  im- 
proving its  condition.  Were  they  the  kinsmen  of  the  lost  ? 
could  they  make  out  relationship  ?  could  they  prove  that 
there  existed  between  themselves  and  the  fallen  any  of 
that  alliance  which  results  from  community  of  nature  ? 
Then,  an  angel,  not  being  a  kinsman,  could  not  be  a  Re- 
deemer. None  but  a  man  could  be  the  Goel  of  man — 
such  was  the  truth  which  the  law  emphatically  taught, 
when  refusing,  in  any  case,  to  concede  to  a  stranger  the 
right  of  Redemption. 

And  is  not  this  the  truth  which  was  literally  acted  upon 
in  the  appointment  of  a  "  Mediator  between  God  and 
man  ?"  "  Forasmuch  as  the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh 
and  blood,  He  also  Himself  likewise  took  part  of  the 
same."  And  shall  we  ever  hesitate  to  say  that  the  com- 
forting and  sustaining  thing  to  the  followers  of  Christ,  is 
that  the  Goel,  the  Redeemer,  is,  in  the  strictest  sense,  their 
kinsman  ?  That  Christ  was  like  myself  in  all  points,  my 
sinfulness  only  excepted  ;  that  his  flesh,  like  mine,  could  be 
lacerated  by  stripes,  wasted  by  hunger,  and  torn  by  nails  ; 
that  his  soul,  like  mine,  could  be  assaulted  by  temptation, 


350  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

harassed  by  Satan,  and  disquieted  under  the  hidings  of  the 
countenance  of  his  Father ;  that  He  could  suffer  any  thing 
which  I  can  suffer,  except  the  remorse  of  a  guilty  con- 
science ;  that  He  could  weep  every  tear  which  I  can  weep, 
except  the  tear  of  repentance  ;  that  He  could  fear  with 
every  fear,  hope  with  every  hope,  and  joy  with  every  joy, 
which  I  may  entertain  as  a  man,  and  not  be  ashamed  of 
as  a  Christian — there  is  our  creed  respecting  the  human 
nature  of  Christ ;  and  if  you  could  once  prove  that  Christ 
was  not  perfect  man  (always  bearing  in  mind  that  sinful- 
ness is  not  essential  to  this  perfectness),  there  would  be 
nothing  worth  fighting  for  in  the  truth,  that  Christ  was 
perfect  God  ;  the  only  Redeemer  who  can  redeem  our  lost 
heritage,  being  necessarily  our  kinsman  ;  and  none  being 
our  kinsman  who  is  not  of  the  same  nature,  born  of  a 
woman,  of  the  substance  of  that  woman,  our  brother  in  all 
but  rebellion,  ourself  in  all  but  unholiness. 

Such  we  know  abundantly  from  the  testimony  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  it  was  needful 
should  be  the  Goel,  or  Redeemer,  of  men.  And  when,  in 
all  cases  of  Redemption,  the  law  peremptorily  refused  to 
admit  any  one  but  the  kinsman  to  the  office  of  Redeemer, 
can  it  be  questioned  that  there  was  perpetually  inculcated 
on  the  Israelites  the  great  truth  of  the  human  nature  of 
the  Mediator  ?  Has  there  not  throughout  been  the  main- 
tenance of  that  character  of  a  Redeemer,  which,  putting 
our  deliverance  far  beyond  the  power  of  angel  or  arch- 
angel, makes  brotherhood  indispensable  to  the  effecting 
atonement ;  or  renders  it  needful  that  we  should  be  able 
to  say,  "  The  man  is  near  of  kin  unto  us,  one  of  our  next 
kinsmen,"  if  we  are  ever  to  declare  of  any  being,  in  the 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  351 

full  and  comprehensive  meaning  of  the  words,  "Blessed 
be  he  of  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left  off  his  kindness  to 
the  living  and  to  the  dead?" 

But  there  is  nothing  in  these  remarks  which  applies  to 
one  case  of  legal  Redemption  more  than  to  another.  We 
have  only  argued  from  the  general  requirement  of  kins- 
manship,  without  attending  to  the  particular  features  of 
the  instance  brought  under  review.  But  if  you  wish  to 
describe  man's  natural  condition,  and  the  change  effected 
in  that  condition  by  the  interference  of  Christ,  whence 
could  you  fetch  better  terms  than  from  the  directions  of 
the  law  in  regard  of  a  forfeited  inheritance  ?  Who  is  the 
Israelite  that  has  grown  poor,  and  alienated  from  him  the 
possession  of  his  fathers,  if  it  be  not  man,  originally  the 
chosen  of  God,  rich  in  a  birth-right  which  gave  him  a  glo- 
rious world  for  his  dwelling-place,  and  Immortality  for  his 
life-time  ;  but  who,  afterwards,  by  yielding  to  temptation, 
stripped  himself  of  all  his  wealth,  and  made  himself  heir 
to  nothing  but  corruption  ?  A  magnificent  creation  was 
our  possession ;  and  we  sold  it  to  Satan  ;  making  it  over 
to  the  ravages  of  the  destroyer,  who  rifled  its  beauties,  and 
let  loose  upon  it  the  long  train  of  wrath  and  calamity. 
The  image  of  the  Almighty  was  our  possession  ;  and  we 
parted  with  this,  destroying  it  by  an  act  of  rebellion.  An 
eternity  of  happiness  was  our  possession ;  and  we  threw 
away  this ;  bringing  down  on  ourselves  the  curse  of  death, 
of  death  alike  to  body  and  soul.  And  we  became  poor — 
who  shall  measure  to  us  the  spiritual  poverty  of  man  ? 
have  we  a  solitary  fraction  to  pay  down  for  the  Redemp- 
tion of  the  land  ?  The  way  is  open,  as  it  was  with  the 
Israelites,  if  the  man  himself  be  able  to  redeem  it,  let  him 


352  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

redeem  it.  But  can  we  buy  this  creation  back  from 
Satan  ?  can  we  sweep  together  the  costly  and  the  precious, 
and  tender  an  equivalent  for  the  image  of  God  ?  can  we 
accumulate  the  purchase-money  for  a  bartered  Immor- 
tality ?  And  if  the  effort  be  hopeless,  must  the  inheritance 
be  forfeited  for  ever  ?  No,  God's  appointment  with  our 
race  is  just  what  it  was  with  the  Israelites,  "  the  land  shall 
not  be  sold  for  ever."  Who  then  shall  redeem  it  ?  who 
but  the  Goel,  the  kinsman,  the  brother  ?  God  will  pro- 
vide a  Redeemer.  There  shall  arise  a  mail,  yet,  oh,  in- 
finitely more  than  a  man  ;  and  his  human  nature  shall  give 
Him  the  right,  whilst  his  Divine  gives  Him  the  strength 
— the  right  of  kinsmanship,  the  strength  of  payment — and 
the  blood  of  this  mysterious  person  shall  be  poured  forth 
in  ransom ;  and  He  shall  buy  back  the  land  which  the 
rebellious  have  lost. 

This  was  the  achievement,  which,  in  the  fulness  of  time, 
the  Goel  effected.  He  literally  redeemed  man's  inherit- 
ance. He  snatched  materialism  itself  from  the  dishonours 
of  the  fall,  securing  the  dawning  of  a  day,  when  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth,  sparkling  with  a  richer  than  the 
early  beauty,  shall  succeed  to  those  which  sin  hath  pro- 
faned. He  gained  for  man  the  renewing  influences  of  the 
Spirit ;  and  thus  brought  us  into  such  a  position,  that  we 
may  be  cast,  as  it  were,  once  more  into  the  mint,  and 
come  forth  with  a  fresh  impress  of  the  likeness  of  God. 
He  purchased  the  bartered  Immortality  ;  for  did  He  not 
"  abolish  death,  and  bring  life  and  Immortality  to  light  by 
his  Gospel  ?"  Thus  the  Goel,  the  kinsman,  redeemed  the 
land.  But  what  He  redeemed,  He  did  not  instantly 
restore.     He  has  gained  the  right  over  the  land ;  but,  for 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  353 

a  while,  He  keeps  possession  of  that  right,  and  gives  not 
back  at  once  the  whole  forfeited  inheritance.  And  was 
it  not  thus  with  the  Goel  under  the  law  ?  He  redeemed 
the  land ;  but  then  he  retained  it  until  the  year  of  Jubilee. 
In  the  year  of  Jubilee  the  original  proprietor  came  forth, 
and  the  Goel  restored  him  all  which  he  had  forfeited. 
With  the  blast  of  a  trumpet  throughout  the  land  was 
ushered  in  the  Jubilee  year  of  the  Israelites.  With  a 
mightier  trumpet-peal,  heard  ou  the  mouutains,  and  in  the 
deserts,  and  in  the  cities,  and  in  the  sepulchres,  shall  com- 
mence the  Jubilee  year  of  this  creation.  Then  shall  the 
Goel,  appearing  in  his  majesty,  and  yet  retaining  all  the 
tokens  of  his  kinsmanship,  call  up  the  new  heavens  and 
the  new  earth  from  the  wreck  of  the  old.  Then  shall  He 
portion  out  eternal  glories  to  those  who  have  clung  to 
Him  as  their  surety,  and  restore,  in  all  its  splendour,  the 
long-lost  inheritance. 

Thus,  without  entering  into  minuter  particulars  on  the 
law  of  Redemption,  we  make  good,  as  we  think,  the 
alleged  typical  connection  between  the  Redemption  of 
land  under  the  law,  and  the  Redemption  of  mankind,  as 
revealed  to  us  by  the  Gospel.  We  show  you,  that,  by  and 
through  the  person  and  office  of  the  Goel,  God  was  per- 
petually informing  the  Israelites  as  to  the  character  and 
work  of  the  Messiah.  And  when  we  have  pointed  out  to 
you  the  impoverished  Jew,  spoiled  of  the  possession  of  his 
fathers,  unable  of  himself  to  do  any  thing  towards  regain- 
ing the  inheritance — and  have  then  turned  your  attention 
on  a  kinsman  Redeemer  paying  down  the  ransom,  bringing 
back  the  land  into  the  family,  keeping  it  in  his  own  hands 

until  the  Jubilee  trumpet  sounded,  and  then  restoring  it 
23 


354  THE  KINSMAN  11EDEEMER.  [Lect. 

to  the  original  owner — we  think  that  we  have  furnished 
you  with  so  vivid  a  sketch  of  Paradise  lost  through  human 
apostacy,  regained  by  the  purchase  of  a  Kinsman,  and 
given  back  on  the  day  when  the  archangel  shall  lift  his 
trump,  and  blow  the  blast  at  which  the  sheeted  dead  shall 
start,  that  it  must  on  all  hands  be  confessed  that  the  Goel 
of  the  law  was  pre-eminently  a  type  of  the  Redeemer  of 
the  Gospel — yes,  all  must  be  ready  to  look  upon  Christ  as 
shadowed  forth  in  these  words  of  Naomi,  "This  man  is 
near  of  kin  to  us,  one  of  our  next  kinsmen.  Blessed  be 
he  of  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left  off  his  kindness  to  the 
living  and  to  the  dead." 

Now  we  have  spoken  at  so  much  length  on  the  first 
case  of  legal  Redemption,  where  there  had  been  forfeiture 
of  inheritance,  that  a  brief  notice  will  suffice  for  the 
second,  where  there  had  been  loss  of  liberty.  The  cases 
are  so  far  alike,  that  they  may  be  regarded  as  different 
exhibitions  of  one  and  the  same  condition ;  and  whatever, 
therefore,  we  have  advanced  in  respect  to  the  former 
instance,  applies,  with  only  a  slight  change  in  the  imagery, 
to  the  present.  You  will  find,  by  reference  to  the  twenty- 
fifth  chapter  of  Leviticus,  from  which  we  have  already 
quoted,  that,  for  the  discharge  of  debt,  or  the  procurement 
of  subsistence,  an  Israelite  might  sell  himself  either  to  an 
Israelite  or  a  stranger.  If  he  became  the  servant  of  an 
Israelite,  there  appears  to  have  been  no  right  of  Redemp- 
tion :  he  must  remain  in  the  house  of  his  master  till  the 
year  of  Jubilee.  But  if  he  became  the  servant  of  a  stran- 
ger, then  there  was  a  case  for  the  interposition  of  the 
( !  <  >el ;  and  the  law  ran,  "  After  that  he  is  sold,  he  may  be 
redeemed  again;  one  of  his  brethren  may  redeem  him." 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  355 

As  in  the  instance  of  the  redemption  of  land,  if  the  man 
were  able,  he  might  be  his  own  redeemer.  But  if  he  had 
no  ability  to  pay  the  ransoni  himself,  then  either  one  of  his 
kinsmen  must  interpose  on  his  behalf,  or  the  man  must 
remain  unredeemed;  the  law  still  holding  good  that  no 
stranger  could  discharge  the  office  of  the  Goel. 

You  will  observe  the  peculiarity,  that  the  Goel  had  no 
right  to  interfere,  unless  it  were  to  a  stranger  that  the 
Israelite  had  been  sold.  If  the  master  were  an  Israelite, 
the  servant  was  in  no  sense  alienated  from  God's  people ; 
and  the  exigence  was  not  such  as  to  warrant  the  Goel's 
interference.  But  if  the  master  were  a  stranger,  then  the 
servitude  became  typical  of  man's  bondage  to  Satan.  It 
might  be  said  in  a  degree  to  have  withdrawn  the  servant 
from  the  congregation  of  Israel ;  and  thus  a  case  was  made 
out  for  the  kinsman  Redeemer;  the  Goel  might  come 
forward,  and  the  servant  might  be  free.  You  will  perceive 
at  once,  that,  in  its  typical  character,  this  transaction  is 
identical  with  that  already  reviewed.  Is  it  not  the  Scrip- 
tural representation  of  man  by  nature,  that  he  is  "the 
servant  of  sin,  led  captive  by  Satan  at  his  will  ?"  The 
Israelite  hath  sold  himself  to  the  stranger;  and  not  one 
farthing  can  he  advance  towards  buying  back  his  freedom. 
Must  he  then  languish  for  ever  in  bondage  ?  Must  the 
chain  be  for  ever  upon  him  ?  Must  he  groan  for  ever 
beneath  the  load  of  oppression  ?  There  advances  a 
mighty  one  who  proclaims  Himself  his  Kinsman  and  Goel, 
made  of  a  woman,  made  under  the  law,  and  bearing  the 
likeness  of  sinful  flesh.  He  pays  down  in  suffering  the 
price  of  Redemption:  He  strikes  the  chain  with  his  cross, 
and  it  is  broken  into  shivers:  He  bids  the  prisoner  come 


356  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

forth,  and  walk  in  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of 
God. 

We  will  not  however  enlarge  upon  this:  the  typical 
correspondence  is  too  obvious  to  be  overlooked.  We  rather 
proceed  to  the  third  case  of  the  Goel's  interference,  a  case 
which  differs  considerably  from  those  already  examined. 
It  was  the  office  of  the  kinsman,  the  Goel,  to  interpose, 
not  only  when  there  had  been  forfeiture  of  inheritance,  or 
loss  of  liberty,  but  also  when  there  had  been  shedding  of 
blood.  You  will  find  the  account  of  this  third  office  of 
the  Goel  in  the  thirty-fifth  chapter  of  the  book  of  Num- 
bers, which  particularly  describes  the  appointment  of  cities 
of  refuge.  It  is  here,  indeed,  easy  to  overlook  the  kinsman 
Redeemer,  and  not  to  observe  that  he  is  introduced  into 
the  discourse.  Our  translation  speaks  only  of  the  "  aven- 
ger," or  the  "  revenger  of  blood."  But  the  original  word 
marks  simply  the  Goel — so  that  the  Goel,  the  kinsman 
Redeemer,  was,  in  virtue  of  kinsmanship,  the  avenger  of 
blood.  If  murder  had  been  perpetrated,  the  prosecution 
and  execution  of  the  murdered  devolved  on  the  nearest  of 
kin  to  the  murdered  party.  He  must  pursue  the  mur- 
derer ;  and  if  he  overtook  him  before  he  reached  the  city 
of  refuge,  he  might  take  summary  vengeance  for  the  death 
of  his  relative.  But  if  the  Goel  were  not  at  hand  when 
the  crime  was  committed,  it  would  seem  that  no  stranger 
had  right  to  arrest  or  follow  the  criminal.  He  betook 
himself  unmolested  to  the  nearest  city  of  refuge,  and 
remained  there  in  safety  until  the  cause  was  tided  before 
the  judges  of  the  land.  So  that,  in  this  case,  as  well  as  in 
the  others,  the  interference  defended  on  tliQ  kinsmanship. 
Nothing  else  could   warrant  a  man   in  undertaking  the 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  357 

office  of  the  Goel ;  and  thus  that  distinguishing  feature  of 
the  Goel,  which  made  him  throughout  the  type  of  our 
Redeemer,  the  feature  of  kinsmanship  to  the  party  requir- 
ing interference,  stands  out  as  prominently  when  blood 
was  to  be  avenged,  as  when  land  was  to  be  redeemed,  or 
liberty  regained. 

But  wherein,  in  this  instance,  lies  the  typical  resemblance 
between  the  offices  of  the  Goel  and  of  Christ  ?  We  sus- 
pect that  wrong  interpretations  have  been  advanced  of 
the  figurative  meaning  of  a  portion  of  the  law,  through 
men's  not  observing  that  the  "  avenger  of  blood"  is  the 
Goel,  the  kinsman  Redeemer.  It  is  the  common  idea,  that 
the  cities  of  refuge  were  typical  of  Christ ;  and  that  the 
manslayer,  who  fled  thither  for  shelter,  was  the  human 
race,  pursued  by  the  justice  of  the  Almighty.  We  are 
far  from  implying  that  there  is  no  fidelity  or  beauty  in 
such  a  figure  ;  or  that,  under  certain  limitations,  it  may 
not  be  lawful  to  reckon  as  antitype  and  type,  our  Redeem- 
er and  the  city  of  refuge.  But  we  have  adduced,  we 
hope,  no  inconsiderable  proof,  that  the  fixed  and  standing 
type  of  Christ  under  the  law  was  the  Goel,  the  kinsman 
Redeemer  ;  and  that  the  offices  of  this  Goel  gave  the  clear 
outlines  of  those  of  the  Messiah.  Whenever,  then,  we 
find  mention  of  an  interference  of  the  Goel,  we  seem 
bound,  by  all  fair  laws  of  interpretation,  to  search  for 
something  analogous  to  the  interference  of  the  Christ ; 
and  we  may  well  hesitate,  after  having  heretofore  found 
man's  advocate  in  the  Goel,  to  assent  to  a  commentary 
which,  in  this  case,  would  find  his  adversary.  We  will 
not,  therefore,  seek  the  figure  of  Christ  in  the  city  of 
refuge.     We  look  for  Christ  in  the  Goel ;  and  since  the 


358  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lect. 

Goel  is  "here  "  the  avenger  of  blood  "  we  will  search  for 
Christ  in  "  the  avenger  of  blood." 

We  wish  you  to  bear  in  mind  that  our  only  business 
lies  with  the  office  of  the  Goel.  If  you  follow  the  mur- 
derer into  the  city  of  refuge,  you  might  find  circumstances 
inconsistent  with  that  designation  of  the  murderer,  which 
we  are  about  to  advance.  But  this  touches  not  the  ques- 
tion of  the  office  of  the  Goel,  and  has  therefore  no  right 
to  be  introduced  into  the  debate.  There  would  be  just  as 
much  objection  against  the  supposing  Christ  typified  by 
the  city  of  refuge.  Those  who  were  really  guilty  fled  in 
vain  to  the  city,  and  must  be  delivered  up  to  the  punish- 
ment due  to  their  crime.  Who  can  find  in  this  any  em- 
blem of  the  flying  of  sinners  to  Christ,  and  of  the  succour 
afforded  to  those  who  have  deserved  hell  by  their  many 
offences  ?  We  are  bound  to  be  always  careful  not  to  over- 
strain types.  But,  in  the  case  of  the  Goel,  let  attention 
be  only  limited,  as  it  ought  to  be,  to  the  person  and  office, 
and  the  resemblance  is  so  perfect  that  it  might  be  hardly 
possible  to  exaggerate  the  figure.  We  have  now,  there- 
fore, only  to  do  with  the  Goel  as  the  avenger  of  blood ; 
and  we  keep  out  of  sight  the  arrangements  connected  with 
the  cities  of  refuge. 

If  murder  were  committed,  the  Goel  alone,  the  kins- 
man Kedeemer,  could  pursue  the  murderer.  Such  is  simply 
the  typical  exhibition — and  who  does  not  find  in  it  the 
representation  of  the  office  of  Christ?  Created  deathless 
and  imperishable,  was  not  the  human  race  slain  by  Satan, 
when  he  wrought  up  our  first  parents  to  an  act,  prohibited 
by  the  words,  "In  the  day  that  thou  doest.it,  thou  shalt 
surely  die  ?"     We  suppose  it  to  have  been  with  reference 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  359 

to  this  slaughter  of  mankind,  that  Christ  said  of  the  devil, 
"  he  was  a  murderer  from  the  beginning."  It  was  clearly 
through  the  instrumentality  of  Satan,  that  death,  whether 
of  body  or  of  soul,  gained  footing  in  this  creation.  But, 
if  done  through  his  instrumentality,  it  may  justly  be  as- 
cribed to  his  authorship.  And  we  count  it,  therefore,  most 
correct  to  describe  Satan  as  the  great  manslayer.  He  it  is 
that  hath  shed  human  blood  ;  and"  all  that  vast  mowing 
down  of  successive  generations,  which  keeps  the  sepulchres 
replenished  with  fresh  harvests  of  the  dead,  must  be  refer- 
red to  that  awful  being,  who  hath  been  "  a  murderer  from 
the  beginning."  And  if  we  can  thus  find  the  manslayer 
in  Satan,  cannot  we  find  the  avenger  of  blood  in  Christ  ? 
Who  pursued  the  murderer !  Who,  so  soon  as  man  lay 
wounded  and  bleeding  on  the  earth,  snatched  up  the  sword, 
and  followed  the  track  of  that  malignant  spirit,  whose  blow 
had  prostrated  the  world's  population?  Who,  century 
after  century,  unwearied  and  undiverted,  opposed  Himself, 
in  every  quarter,  and  by  every  weapon,  to  the  shedder  of 
blood  ;  till,  at  last,  meeting  him  front  to  front  in  one  dread 
struggle,  He  took  on  him  a  vengeance  which  drew  the 
wonder  of  the  intelligent  universe,  and  "  through  death  de- 
stroyed him  that  had  the  power  of  death  ?"  Who  was  it, 
that,  sorrowing  over  the  wretchedness  of  the  stricken  race, 
put  on  righteousness  as  a  breastplate,  and  clothed  Himself 
with  zeal  as  a  cloak,  and  then,  equipped  for  conflict,  sprang 
forth  to  grapple  with  the  assassin  ?  Who  but  the  Groel  ? 
Who  but  the  Kinsman  Redeemer  ?  Who  but  that  seed  of 
the  woman,  predicted  to  bruise  the  serpent's  head  ?  Who 
but  that  Son  of  man,  the  brother  of  the  slaughtered  ones, 
who  "  spoiled  principalities  and  powers,  and  made  a  show 


360  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  [Lf.ct. 

of  them  openly,  triumphing  over  them  in  his  cross  ?"  Oh, 
it  is  certain,  that,  though  Satan  for  a  while  may  still  be 
permitted  to  roam  over  this  creation,  there  has  been  gained 
a  mastery  which  reduced  him  into  the  bond-slave  of  our 
Kinsman.  It  is  certain  that  One  who  sprang  from  amongst 
ourselves,  allied  to  us  by  oneness  of  nature,  associated  by 
all  the  Unkings  of  brotherhood,  has  gone  after  the  man- 
slayer,  and  overtaken  him,  and  spoiled  him  of  his  strength; 
and  that,  though  He  allow  him,  in  subservience  to  the 
mighty  purposes  of  God,  still  to  walk  this  globe  with  the 
slaughter- weapon  in  his  hand,  He  is  only  reserving  the 
full  taking  of  vengeance  till  the  year  of  Jubilee  arrives ; 
and  that  then,  reckoning  with  the  murderer  for  all  the 
blood  with  which  the  earth  has  been  drenched,  He  will 
hurl  him  headlong  into  the  lake  of  fire,  and  thus  call  forth 
an  acknowledgment  from  congregated  intelligences,  that 
the  Goel  of  man  has  been  the  avenger  of  man's  blood. 

Yes,  we  thus  show  you,  that,  when  the  Goel  rose  up  at 
the  sight  of  the  corpse  of  his  kinsman,  and  rushed  forth  in 
pursuit  of  the  assassin — just  as  well  as  when  he  interfered 
to  redeem  his  kinsman's  land,  or  his  kinsman's  person — he 
was  the  figure  of  that  illustrious  deliverer,  who,  in  process 
of  time,  should  undertake  the  championship  of  his  brethren, 
regain  their  inheritance,  burst  their  chains,  and  avenge 
their  blood.  We  may  consider  therefore  that  the  point  at 
which  we  have  been  labouring,  is  sufficiently  established ; 
that  we  shall  carry  with  us  your  assent,  when  we  take  it  as 
an  ascertained  truth,  that  there  was  a  standing  type  of 
Christ  under  the  legal  dispensation,  a  type  which  would 
be  presented  to  the  Jew  in  the  various  transactions  of  life, 
and  that  this  type  was  the  Goel,  the  Kinsman  Kedeemer. 


XVIII.]  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER.  361 

It  is  over  the  grave  and  the  separate  state,  as  well  as  over 
this  earth  with  its  duties  and  trials,  that  our  Goel  extends 
his  care  and  protection :  having  guarded  his  people  through 
life,  He  forgets  them  not  in  death,  He  forsakes  them  not 
after  death  ;  and  therefore  of  Him,  Him  who  "is  near  of 
kin  unto  us,  one  of  our  next  Kinsmen,"  may  it  be  said  with 
an  emphasis,  which  could  never,  comparatively,  have  been 
used  of  any  other  Goel,  "  Blessed  be  he  of  the  Lord,  who 
hath  not  left  off  his  kindness  to  the  living  and  to  the  dead." 

We  shall  not  presume  to  say  that  we  have  examined 
every  case  in  which  the  Goel  interfered.  We  have  certain- 
ly taken  the  chief  instances  ;  and  if  others  occur,  a  similar 
process  of  reasoning  will  bring  out,  we  are  persuaded,  a 
similar  result.  And.  do  not  suppose,  that,  in  pleading  for 
the  typical  character  of  the  Goel,  we  pit-ad  for  the  exist- 
ence of  a  figure  which  was  hidden  from  the  men  of  the 
old  dispensation.  When  Job  exclaims,  "  I  know  that  my 
Redeemer  liveth,"  it  is,  "  I  know  that  my  Goel,  my  Kins- 
man, liveth."  And  if  the  holy  ones  amongst  the  Jews 
could  describe  Christ  as  the  Goel,  would  they  not  naturally 
turn  to  the  offices  of  the  Goel,  in  order  that  they  might 
ascertain  the  offices  of  Christ  ? 

Kinsmen  of  Christ — for  ye  are  all  his  kinsmen — kins- 
men of  Christ,  shall  your  Goel  have  thus  mightily  inter- 
fered, and  will  ye  put  from  you,  through  unbelief,  the 
benefits  of  his  interference  ?  He  made  himself  the  Kins- 
man of  each  one  amongst  you.  Bear  that,  we  beseech  of 
you,  in  mind.  Who  is  there  that  is  not  the  kinsman  of 
Christ?  The  kinsmanship  resulted  from  his  taking  human 
nature ;  and  it  is  enough  therefore  to  be  a  man,  and  I 
know  myself  Christ's  kinsman.     And  as  He  is  the  Kins- 


362  THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER. 

man  of  all,  He  is  the  Goel  of  all.  He  tasted  death  for 
every  man.  He  redeemed  every  man's  inheritance.  He 
regained  every  man's  liberty.  He  avenged  every  man's 
blood.  If  not,  how  was  He  the  Goel  of  the  race  ?  But 
then  He  imposes  a  condition — "  If  ye  will  not  believe, 
surely  ye  shall  not  be  established."  If  ye  will  not  believe, 
the  land,  though  I  have  ransomed  it,  shall  not  come  back 
to  you ;  and  the  liberty,  though  I  have  purchased  it,  shall 
not  be  bestowed  on  you  ;  and  upon  your  own  heads  shall  be 
your  own  blood.  We  give  you  thus  the  simple,  glorious 
Gospel ;  and  may  God  send  it  to  your  hearts.  The  Goel 
has  interposed :  He  hath  performed  all  the  offices  of  the 
Kinsman :  and  now  unbelief,  and  nothing  but  unbelief,  can 
exclude  the  poorest,  the  meanest,  the  most  wicked  amongst 
you,  from  a  full  and  free  share  in  the  perfect  Redemption. 
Can  any  of  you  think  of  being  his  own  Goel,  of  effect- 
ing for  himself  the  salvation  of  his  soul  ?  There  are  chains 
to  be  broken ;  there  is  Paradise  to  be  regained ;  there  is 
Satan  to  be  trampled  under  foot.  And  which  of  us  is 
sufficient  for  these  things  ?  Who  will  undertake  them  in 
his  own  strength  ?  It  can  hardly  be  that  you  will  not 
shrink  from  what  so  manifestly  surpasses  human  power. 
Then  close  at  once  with  your  Goel  :  take  the  Redemption 
which  is  proffered,  without  money  and  without  price :  you 
will  find  Christ  "  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  who 
come  unto  God  through  Him."  And  when  enabled  to 
say,  in  the  language  of  faith,  "The  man  is  near  of  kin 
unto  us,  one  of  our  next  kinsmen,"  your  experience  of  his 
preciousness  will  lead  you  continually  to  exclaim,  both  here 
and  hereafter,  "Blessed  be  he  of  the  Lord,  who  bath  not 
left  off  his  kindness  to  the  living  or  the  dead." 


LECTURE   XIX. 


it  SSuriifliifis. 


Acts  xiv.  22. 


"  Confirming  the  souls  of  the  disciples,  and  exhorting  them  to  continue  in  the  faith,  and 
that  we  must  through  much  tribulation  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 

TnESE  words  relate  what  was  done  by  Barnabas  and  Paul, 
on  revisiting  Lystra,  Iconium,  and  Antioch,  cities  where 
they  had  preached  the  Gospel,  and  planted  Churches. 
We  take  them  as  our  subject  of  discourse,  because  our 
Church  devotes  this  present  day  to  the  commemoration  of 
St.  Barnabas,  the  Apostle,  whom  she  defines  in  her  collect 
"  as  endued  with  singular  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  His 
name  was  originally  Joses ;  he  was  of  the  tribe  of  Levi, 
but  born  at  Cyprus.  This  latter  circumstance  explains 
what  is  said  of  him,  on  his  first  mention  in  the  book  of  the 
Acts,  "  Having  land,  he  sold  it,  and  brought  the  money, 
and  laid  it  at  the  Apostles'  feet."  You  will  remember, 
that,  according  to  the  law  of  Moses,  the  Levites  were  not 
allowed  to  possess  estates  of  their  own  in  the  promised 
land :  but  this  did  not  prevent  their  acquiring  property  in 
other  countries :  Joses  then,  possessing  land  in  Cyprus,  was 
at  liberty  to  sell  it,  and  throw  the  proceeds  into  the  com- 


364  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

nion  fund,  which  was  then  applied  to  the  sustenance  of 
poor  Christians ;  and,  on  his  doing  this — 'for  he  may  have 
been  amongst  the  first  or  most  liberal  contributors  to  so 
charitable  a  design — he  seems  to  have  received  from  the 
Apostles  the  surname  of  Barnabas,  which  is  interpreted  by 
St.  Luke,  "  the  son  of  consolation." 

We  have  but  little  information  as  to  the  life  and  la- 
bours of  Barnabas.  We  read  of  his  having  been  sent  by 
the  Apostles  to  confirm  the  new  Christians  at  Antioch, 
who  had  received  the  faith  on  the  preaching  of  those 
"  which  were  scattered  abroad  upon  the  persecution  that 
arose  about  Stephen."  When  Barnabas  came  and  had 
seen  the  grace  of  God,  "  he  was  glad,  and  exhorted  them 
all,  that,  with  purpose  of  heart,  they  would  cleave  unto 
the  Lord."  The  Evangelist  then  adds  a  testimony,  which 
fully  bears  out  the  expressions  in  the  collect  of  the  day, 
"  For  he  was  a  good  man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
of  faith."  He  then  became,  for  a  considerable  time,  the 
coadjutor  of  St.  Paul ;  but  even  those  great  lights  were 
men  of  like  passions  with  us :  dissensions  arose  between 
Barnabas  and  St.  Paul :  they  separated,  but  still  laboured 
in  the  same  cause  ;  each  chose  a  field  for  himself;  and  both 
strove,  with  like  zeal,  to  win  converts  to  the  faith  of  their 
common  Lord.  There  is  little  further  known  in  regard  of 
Barnabas.  But  it  is  generally  agreed  that  "  his  last  la- 
bours were  employed  in  his  native  country,  and  that,  by 
the  malice  of  the  Jews,  he  was  tumultuously  assaulted, 
and  stoned  to  death  at  Salamis,  the  principal  city  of 
Cyprus." 

And  now,  in  taking  our  text  as  a  fit  subject  of  discourse 
on  the  feast  of  St.  Barnabas,  and  in  commenting  especially, 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  365 

as  we  design  to  do,  on  its  latter  clause,  "  We  must  through 
much  tribulation  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God,"  we  feel 
as  though  you  may  think  that  more  consolatory  words 
might  have  been  looked  for  from  "  the  son  of  consolation." 
Has  Barnabas  only  to  tell  us  of  "  much  tribulation  ?"  Has 
he  no  more  cheering  tidiugs,  by  which  to  vindicate  his 
name  ?  Nay,  my  brethren,  if  he  speak  of  "  much  tribula- 
tion," he  speaks  also  of  that  tribulation  as  a  way  of  enter- 
ing into  the  "  Kingdom  of  God."  Is  it  not  consolatory  to 
be  told  by  St.  Paul,  that  "  our  light  affliction,  which  is  but 
for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory  ?"  Of  course,  the  consolation  does 
not  lie  in  the  being  told  that  there  are  afflictions  which 
must  be  borne,  but  in  the  being  assured  that  these  afflic- 
tions shall  be  instrumental  to  our  everlasting  good.  It 
might  scarcely  consist  with  the  name  of  Barnabas,  that  he 
should  speak  only  of  the  multiplied  sorrows  which  fall  to 
the  true  believer's  lot ;  but  we  recognise  the  voice  of  the 
"  son  of  consolation,"  when  those  sorrows  are  represented 
as  preparing  us  for  Heaven.  And  often  as,  in  one  way  or 
another,  this  truth  comes  before  us,  it  seems  always  to  take 
a  more  than  common,  hold  of  the  mind:  cares  and  griefs 
are  so  numerous,  so  varied,  so  oppressive,  that  nothing  falls 
more  gratefully  on  the  ear  of  a  Christian  assembly,  than 
the  mention  of  afflictions  as  fitting  us  for  glory. 

But  we  must  take  care  lest  we  misapply  the  exhorta- 
tion of  Barnabas.  The  very  readiness  with  which  numbers 
hearken  to  a  discourse  upon  sorrow,  the  soothing  sound 
which  there  evidently  is  in  words  which  tell  how  the  Lord 
chasteneth  his  people,  should  suggest  the  importance  of 
having  it  rightly  understood,  that  though  the  kingdom  is 


366  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

to  be  entered  "through  much  tribulation,"  there  may  be 
"  much  tribulation"  which  does  not  lead  to  the  kingdom. 
And  this  single  remark  may  serve  to  show,  that  there  is 
room  for  great  practical  mistakes  in  regard  of  sorrow,  as 
well  as  of  other  divine  orderings  and  appointments  ;  so 
that  the  subject  should  occasionally  be  brought  forward  in 
the  pulpit,  not  in  order  to  the  exhibiting  the  comforts  and 
consolations  which  God  hath  graciously  provided  for  them 
that  mourn  in  Zion,  but  rather  for  the  correcting  what 
may  be  erroneous  in  men's  views,  and  the  placing  in  its 
true  light  the  moral  discipline  wherein  affliction  has  so 
large  a  share.  Such  then  is  our  design  on  the  present  oc- 
casion. It  is  the  feast  of  St.  Barnabas,  and  you  exj)ect 
only  soothing  things  from  the  son  of  consolation.  But 
whilst  we  wish  you,  and  mean  you,  to  have  these,  we  must 
also  labour  that  you  take  not  comfort  on  insufficient 
grounds  5  therefore  let  us  now  see — and  may  God's  Spirit 
assist  us  in  the  search — whether  the  emphatic  declaration 
of  St.  Peter,  as  to  Scripture  being  wrested  to  their  own 
destruction  by  the  unlearned  and  unstable,  may  not  be  ap- 
plied even  to  the  words  of  Barnabas  in  our  text,  that,  "  we 
must,  through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the  Kingdom 
of  God." 

Now  let  us  give  you  something  of  a  parochial  minister's 
experience :  let  us  make  you  accompany  him,  as  he  goes 
one  of  his  week-day  rounds,  and  introduce  you  to  certain 
cases  of  sickness  or  suffering.  Our  first  visit  shall  be  to  a 
person  afflicted  with  great  bodily  disease,  enduring  racking 
(tains,  which  threaten  to  be  of  very  long  continuance, 
neither  likely  to  be  alleviated  by  medicine  nor  terminated 
by  death.     This  is  a  most  affecting  a^d  melancholy  case : 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  367 

no  one  of  common  sensibility  can  look  on  a  fellow-creature, 
thus  sorely  tried,  and  not  long  to  say  something  to  him 
which  might  be  cheering  and  soothing.  And  it  is  evident 
that  this  is  hardly  to  be  done,  unless  reference  be  made  to 
another  state  of  being:  the  case  is  clearly  beyond  the 
ordinary  and  worldly  expressions  of  hope  and  condolence ; 
so  that  it  were  better  to  keep  silence,  in  fear  of  being 
thought  to  be  only  trifling  with  misery,  if  we  may  not  in- 
troduce the  mention  of  a  better  land,  where  tears  are 
wiped  away,  and  pain  is  unknown.  But  it  is  the  clergy- 
mans  business,  and  it  is  also  his  privilege,  to  point  the 
afflicted  to  Heaven ;  and  the  natural  impulse  will  be,  as  he 
gazes  on  the  stricken  and  disconsolate  man,  to  say  to  him 
in  a  voice  of  the  most  thorough  sympathy,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer;  we  must,  through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the 
Kingdom  of  God."  And  perhaps  the  words  are  evidently 
apprehended  and  relished  by  the  sufferer :  you  can  see,  by 
the  faint  smile  which  gleams  for  an  instant  on  features  dis- 
torted by  pain,  that  the  reference  to  the  ends  and  objects 
of  affliction,  tells  on  the  feelings,  and  offers  the  kind  of 
comfort  on  which  the  heart  is  eager  to  seize. 

But  we  must  examine  a  little  into  the  state  of  mind  of 
this  sufferer :  however  harsh  and  unkind  it  may  seem,  to 
distress  him  with  questions,  and  run  the  risk  of  destroying- 
even  that  small  measure  of  support  which  our  salutation 
gave,  we  are  not  to  leave  him  under  a  possible  delusion, 
but  must  endeavour  to  ascertain  whether  it  be  on  right 
grounds  that  he  regards  present  sorrow  as  instrumental  to 
future  happiness.  Alas,  it  is  not  needful  to  put  many 
questions,  or  elicit  many  statements,  in  order  to  the  dis- 
covering how  confused,  yea,  how  false,  are  the  afflicted 


368  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

man's  notions.  Ask  him  whether  he  know  himself  to  be  a 
sinner,  and  that  God's  law  hath  denounced  grievous  pun- 
ishment upon  sin  ;  and  he  will  tell  you,  yes,  he  knows 
himself  a  sinner,  and  therefore  liable  to  the  heavy  wrath 
of  God  :  but  he  will  probably  add,  that,  having  so  much 
of  stern  suffering  to  endure  in  this  life,  he  hopes  that,  in 
the  next,  he  shall  find  himself  at  rest.  How  often,  how 
lamentably  ofteu,  has  the  parochial  minister  to  listen  to 
some  such  statement  as  this — the  sick  man  implying  that 
he  regards  his  sufferings  as  the  punishment  of  sin,  so  that 
what  he  now  undergoes  is  so  much  taken  off  from  future 
penalties,  and  may  even  be  so  great  as  to  leave  nothing  to 
be  endured  after  death. 

But  what  can  be  more  fatally  erroneous  than  any,  such 
notion  ?  Admitting,  as  of  course  we  do,  that  all  suffering 
is  a  consequence  of  sin ;  for  had  not  sin  entered  the  world, 
suffering  could  have  had  no  place ;  what  men  endure  now, 
can  be  at  most  but  the  temporal  punishment  of  sin,  and 
must  leave  the  eternal  undiminished.  It  is  not  indeed  for 
us  to  decide  why  one  man  has  so  much  more  to  endure 
than  another.  The  Judge  of  all  the  earth  will  do  right : 
and  hereafter  there  shall  be  such  ample  explanation  of 
every  dealing  as  will  prove  it  to  have  been  both  in  wisdom 
and  goodness,  that,  for  years,  excruciating  pain  was  the  lot 
of  this  individual,  whilst  unbroken  health  attended  upon 
that.  But  one  stern  truth  we  are  bound  to  deliver  with- 
out compromise  and  without  hesitation,  and  this  is,  that 
there  is  nothing  whatsoever,  in  the  present  sufferings  of  the 
one,  or  the  present  freedom  from  suffering  of  the  other, 
from  which  to  argue,  that  when  the  two  die,  they  may  not 
have  precisely  the  same  amount  of  suffering  to  undergo 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  3(3y 

through  Eternity,  the  same  portion  to  receive  in  that  ter- 
rible state,  where  "  the  worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not 
quenched."  O  fearful  aggravation  of  present  affliction, 
to  think  that  it  may  all  go  for  nothing,  that  the  being, 
who  lies  before  you  distracted  by  pain,  and  whose  cries 
might  pierce  a  heart  of  stone,  may,  all  the  while,  have 
standing  against  him  the  vast  debt  under  which  sin  has 
brought  him  to  the  justice  of  Gocl ;  so  that,  if,  in  one 
of  those  throes  of  agony  which  it  is  agony  to  witness,  the 
immortal  spirit  were  to  escape  from  its  worn,  distracted 
tenement,  it  would  be  doomed  to  that  inconceivable,  inter- 
minable wretchedness,  which  must  be  the  heritage  of  such 
as  are  not  found  in  Christ. 

But  who  shall  doubt  that  this  might  be  the  case  ? 
There  is  no  expiatory  power  or  virtue  in  our  sufferings. 
They  make  no  atonement.  If  endured  patiently,  they 
leave  in  full  force  the  incurred  penalties  of  God's  Law  ;  if 
impatiently,  they  but  incur  fresh.  Let  this  be  remembered 
by  you  all ;  for  we  will  not  undertake  to  say  how  far  the 
notion,  which  the  parochial  minister  so  often  finds,  in  its 

grosser  forms,  amongst  the  sick  and  suffering  poor the 

notion  of  enduring  all  one's  pains  in  this  life,  and  therefore 
finding  ease  and  happiness  in  the  next — may  obtain  place 
in  more  refined  shape,  and  under  some  specious  disguise,  in 
those  whose  opportunities  of  knowing  better  should  have 
secured  them  against  such  delusion.  A  life  of  misery  is  no 
security  against  an  eternity  of  torment.  You  may  lose 
both  worlds,  wretched  here,  and  wretched  hereafter.  Sor- 
rows may  be  heaped  upon  you;  you  may  be  forced  to 
drain   the   very   dregs   of   the    cup    of   trembling.      But 

throughout  the  most  severe  and  terrible  allotments  there 
24  ' 


370  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

may  be  the  same  unsubdued  heart,  the  same  centring  of 
the  affections  upon  earthly  things — ay,  and,  from  what  we 
have  now  been  observing,  a  growing  opinion,  that  God  is 
exacting  from  you  here  the  penalties  of  his  law,  that  He 
may  be  able  to  acquit  you  when  brought  to  his  bar.  And 
our.  present  business  is  with  the  urging  on  you,  that  you 
take  heed  how  you  infer  that  the  path  of  tribulation  must 
be  the  path  to  glory.  You  are  not  to  think,  that,  because 
God  "  scourgeth  every  son  whom  He  receiveth,"  therefore 
every  one  whom  He  scourgeth  must  be  a  son.  You  are 
not  to  think,  that,  because  "  many  are  the  troubles  of  the 
righteous,"  every  one  who  has  many  troubles  must  there- 
fore be  righteous.  Oh,  not  so ;  sorrow  may  be  the  fre- 
quent accompaniment  of  godliness  ;  but  there  may  be  mul- 
tiplied and  intense  sorrow,  where  there  is  no  godliness  to 
accompany.  You  must  look  for  other  proofs  and  evidences 
of  piety  than  sufferings,  "  whether  in  mind,  body,  or 
estate :"  for  however  commonly  piety  and  sufferings  may 
be  combined,  it  does  not  show  that  there  is  no  piety,  that 
there  is  no  special  suffering ;  and  far  less  does  it  show  that 
there  is  piety,  that  there  is  special  suffering. 

Be  careful  then  of  any  misinterpretation  or  misapplica- 
tion of  the  words  of  our  text.  For  events  may  apparently 
come  alike  to  all.  God  may  rebuke  a  wicked  man  in  his 
wrath,  and  a  righteous  man  in  his  love :  but  the  dealings 
may  wear  the  same  aspect,  though  there  is  so  wide  a  dis- 
tinction in  the  originating  cause.  And  whilst  all  are 
sinners,  and  whilst  sorrow  is  fastened  to  sin,  whether  in 
the  way  of  appointed  judgment,  or  of  natural  consequence, 
it  may,  yea  it  must,  be  continually  happening  that  calami- 
ties beset  those  who,  all  the  while,  are  living  in  alienation 


XIX.]  ST.  BAltNABAS.  371 

from  God,  that  tears  are  the  portion,  night  and  day,  of 
men  who  have  no  Scriptural  ground  for  hope,  that  God 
will  finally  wipe  away  tears  from  their  eyes ;  and  neverthe- 
less the  proposition  of  our  text  may  be  unimpeached,  as 
announcing  an  ordinary,  if  not  invariable,  appointment, 
that  "  we  must,  through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the 
Kingdom  of  God." 

Now  we  trust  that  you  will  have  thoroughly  understood 
the  drift  of  the  foregoing  remarks.  We  have  seen  so 
much  tendency  among  the  sick  and  the  suffering,  to  the 
taking  the  being  visited  with  affliction  as  an  evidence  or 
proof  of  being  God's  children,  that  we  are  very  anxious 
to  point  out  what  ought  to  be  too  manifest  to  need  any 
showing,  that,  though  God's  children  are  commonly  afflicted, 
all  that  are  afflicted  are  not  God's  children.  "  Whom  the 
Lord  loveth,  He  correcteth,"  is  a  Scriptural  proposition. 
But  "  whom  the  Lord  correcteth,  He  loveth,"  is  a  very 
different  sentiment ;  he  who  is  a  son  may  expect,  that, 
being  such,  he  shall  be  chastened  ;  but  he  who  is  chastened 
must  not,  on  that  account,  conclude  himself  a  son. 

There  is  however  a  wholly  different,  though  an  equally 
erroneous,  inference,  which  may  be  drawn  from  our  text 
and  from  other  passages  of  Scripture,  which,  in  like 
manner,  associates  suffering  with  piety.  When  one  man,  to 
whose  share  fall  more  than  common  troubles,  reads  the 
saying,  that  "we  must  through  much  tribulation  enter  the 
Kingdom  of  God,"  there  will  be  danger  of  his  hastily 
concluding,  Then,  surely,  I  have  one  great  sign  of  being 
on  the  way  to  the  Kingdom,  for  "  much  tribulation"  is 
given  as  my  lot.  But  when  another  who  is  not  called  to 
extraordinary  trials,  whose  course  of  life,  on  the  whole,  is 


8  7 'J  ST.  BARNABAS.  [1/ECT. 

one  of  evenness  and  peace,  reads  of  entering  the  Kingdom 
through  "  much  tribulation,"  there  is  great  likelihood  of 
his  suspecting  that  he  is  destitute  of  a  chief  evidence  of 
being  a  child  of  God ;  The  children,  he  will  say,  are  chas- 
tened and  corrected;  can  I  then  be  a  child,  who  experience 
little  or  nothing  of  this  fatherly  discipline  ?  This  is  a  case 
which  comes  under  the  parochial  minister's  observation,  if 
not  as  frequently  as  the  former,  yet  sufficiently  often  to 
render  it  right  that  we  give  it  a  careful  consideration. 
There  is  hardly  a  shape  or  form  which  doubts  may  not 
assume ;  if  the  greatness  of  trouble  distress  and  harass  one 
Christian,  the  very  want  of  trouble  may  be  a  trouble  to 
another.  And  certainly  one  may  observe  many  cases,  in 
which,  for  many  years,  God  seems  to  have  done  to  an 
individual  or  a  family  what  Satan  alleged  as  the  pro- 
ducing cause  of  the  piety  of  Job,  "  Hast  thou  not  made 
an  hedge  about  him,  and  about  his  house,  and  about  all 
that  he  hath  on  every  side  %  thou  hast  blessed  the  work 
of  his  hands,  and  his  sustenance  is  increased  in  the  land." 
Every  thing  goes  smoothly  and  brightly ;  the  party  is 
an  object  of  great  respect  and  esteem :  death  makes  no 
inroad  into  the  household :  there  is  prosperity  in  business : 
children  grow  up  "  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord ;"  and  the  whole  domestic  aspect,  or  picture,  is  that 
of  a  choice  and  curtained  spot,  which  the  Almighty  Him- 
self has  marked  off  for  exemption  from  those  rough 
visitations  which  so  often  lay  waste  the  homes  and  hearts 
of  the  children  of  men. 

How  natural  for  an  individual,  whatever  his  earnest- 
ness and  sincerity  in  religion,  when  he  observes  how  he 
thus  seems  defended  and  shielded,  to  experience  something 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  873 

like  uneasiness  on  hearing  or  reading  our  text !  how 
natural  for  him  to  say,  Can  I  indeed  be  on  my  way  to 
God's  Kingdom,  when  thus  exempted  from  those  "  many 
tribulations,"  which  an  Apostle  asserts  to  be  the  necessary 
entrance  ?  Ah,  my  brother,  life  is  not  finished  yet ;  there 
may  remain  time  enough  for  many  reverses,  many  funerals, 
many  disappointments,  many  calamities.  Be  not  impatient 
for  the  coming  of  trial ;  but  keep  always  praying,  that, 
when  it  comes,  you  may  have  patience  for  its  endurance. 
It  will  come  soon  enough,  sooner  perhaps  than  you  will  be 
ready  to  meet  it.  It  does  not  take  long  to  darken  the 
brightest  sky,  when  God  has  once  "  commanded  the  clouds 
from  above :"  when  He  restrains  not  his  east  wind,  there 
is  no  need  of  years,  moments  suffice,  to  blight  the  sweetest 
flowers,  and  nip  the  choicest  buds.  And  in  the  mean  time, 
thou  canst  not  justly  say,  thou  hast  no  trial :  the  want  of 
trial  is  thy  trial ;  unbroken  sunshine  may  be  a  trial  as  well 
as  continued  storm — ay,  why  not  even  a  greater,  as  making 
thee  doubtful  of  thy  "  calling  and  election  V  for  an  old 
writer  justly  says,  "Pain  of  the  body  is  after  all  but  the 
body  of  pain  ;"  it  is  the  pain  of  the  soul  which  is  the  soul 
of  pain :  and  certainly  to  one,  who  truly  loves  God,  there 
cannot  be  a  severer  thing,  than  that,  whatsoever  it  be, 
which  causes  him  to  doubt  whether  God  loves  him.  He 
might  more  readily  welcome  troubles  which  brought 
witness  of  his  being  a  son,  than  preserve  exemptions  which 
breed  suspicions  of  his  being  an  alien.  So  that  long  unin- 
terrupted prosperity  may  be  the  portion  of  a  wicked  man  : 
it  may  also  be  the  portion  of  a  righteous  man  ;  with  the 
wicked  it  will  nourish  presumption  and  indifference  to 
religion ;    with   the    righteous  it   will  suggest  fears   as  to 


374  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

acceptance  with  God ;  and  these  fears,  springing  from  the 
thought  that  the  believer  has  not  trial  enough,  may  them- 
selves constitute  no  common  trial. 

Though,  in  all  honesty,  there  is  another  view  which 
should  be  taken  of  the  question,  Can  I  be  a  true  Christian, 
when  I  have  so  little  of  tribulation  ?  We  might  meet  the 
question  with  another,  Why  have  I  so  little  tribulation  ? 
Do  you  think  that  the  "  much  tribulation,"  spoken  of  in 
our  text,  is  made  up  exclusively  of  what  the  world  counts 
disasters  and  calamities  ?  Nay,  not  so,  else  how  could  our 
blessed  Lord  speak  of  our  taking  up  the  cross  "  daily,"  and 
following  Him  ?  The  "  tribulation"  consists  greatly  in  con- 
flict with  our  own  evil  hearts,  in  the  grief  occasioned  by 
our  frequent  fallings  into  sin,  in  the  sorrow  and  the  shame 
of  finding  the  lines  of  the  Divine  image  so  faintly  traced 
within,  the  power  of  corruption  still  so  strong,  the  will  so 
biassed,  and  the  affections  so  depraved.  And  know  ye 
nothing  of  this  tribulation  ?  Alas,  that  were  tribulation 
indeed.  He  who  cannot  find  trouble  enough  inside,  has 
stronger  ground  for  fears  as  to  his  spiritual  condition  than 
the  finding  none  outside.  Though,  it  must  further  be 
inquired,  how  comes  there  to  be  no  external  tribulation  ? 
The  tribulations  of  which  St.  Paul  spake,  were,  we  know, 
to  arise  mainly  from  the  persecutions  to  which  the  bold 
profession  of  Christianity  would  then  expose  the  converts 
from  idolatry.  But  has  the  offence  of  the  cross  ceased  ? 
Is  there  no  longer  any  such  thing  as  the  being  "  persecuted 
for  righteousness'  sake  ?"  Nay,  if  true  religion  have  never 
made  you  an  enemy,  be  not  too  sure  that  you  are  not  an 
enemy  to  it.  The  offence  of  the  cross  cannot  wholly  cease, 
because  it  is  the  heart,  as  it  is  human,  rather  than  man,  as 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  375 

he  is  heathen,  by  which  the  prejudice  is  felt.  The  world 
must  dislike  genuine  piety,  as  that  by  which  it  is  opposed, 
reproved,  condemned ;  and  it  ought  to  make  us  doubt 
whether  our  piety  be  genuine,  if  it  never  cause  a  clashing 
between  the  world  and  ourselves.  Do  you  say  that  you 
know  nothing  of  "  tribulation"  as  occasioned  by  religion  ? 
But  are  you  quite  sure  that  you  have  done  your  duty  as  a 
religious  man  ?  Have  you  been  faithful  in  the  reproving 
sin,  in  the  not  suffering  sin  upon  your  neighbour  ?  Have 
you  drawn  the  line  with  due  breadth  and  distinctness, 
between  the  world  and  yourself?  No  wonder,  if  the 
world  do  not  persecute  you,  when  you  do  not  openly 
separate  from  the  world.  No  wonder,  if  you  have  not  in- 
curred much  obliquy,  dislike,  and  contempt,  if  you  have 
been  conceding  to  the  world,  handling  its  faults  with  the 
greatest  possible  gentleness,  and  practically  slurring  over, 
so  far  as  you  could  or  dared,  the  distinguishing  character- 
istics which  mark  off  its  votaries  from  faithful  followers  of 
Christ. 

Suppose  you  were  to  make  an  experiment,  ye  who  are 
ready  to  express  wonder  and  fear  at  having  so  little  of 
trial  and  tribulation,  the  experiment  of  being  more  rigid 
and  conscientious  in  the  practice  of  Christian  duties,  of 
being  more  faithful  in  telling  men  of  their  faults,  more 
zealous  in  seizing  opportunities  of  defending  and  displaying 
the  doctrine  of  the  Cross,  more  earnest  in  showing  what 
are  the  real  and  every-day  doings  and  demandings  of  vital 
religion.  Ah,  perhaps  the  result  of  such  an  experiment 
would  be  the  rapid  removal  of  every  ground  of  misgiving, 
that  your  path  was  too  easy  to  be  the  path  of  God's  King- 
dom.    I  do  not  mean  that  the   experiment  might  bring 


376  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

trouble  upon  you  in  the  shape  of  loss  of  property,  or  of 
the  frequent  funeral,  or  of  the  bitter  disappointment,  or  of 
the  carking  care.  But  the  cold  dislike,  the  scornful  laugh, 
the  ill-disguised  contempt,  the  broken  friendship,  the  keen 
resentment,  the  injurious  speech — these,  which  are  the 
weapons  with  which  the  world  wages  war,  when  and  where 
Christianity  has  the  patronage  of  the  State — these,  which, 
be  ye  well  and  thoroughly  assured,  are  always  brought 
into  exercise  by  the  uncompromising  display  of  Christian 
principle  and  practice — these  would  sufficiently  destroy  the 
character  of  your  path,  as  being  too  comfortable,  too 
smooth,  too  much  strewed  with  flowers,  too  little  set  with 
thorns,  to  be  the  path  to  Heaven.  Oh,  there  may  be 
riches,  there  may  be  health,  there  may  be  domestic  enjoy- 
ment, there  may  be  prosperous  circumstances ;  but  let  a 
believer  labour  earnestly  at  the  doing  his  duty  in  that  sta- 
tion of  life  wherein  it  hath  pleased  God  to  place  him,  his 
duty  in  and  to  himself,  his  duty  to  the  Church  and  to  the 
world,  and  we  can  be  confident  that  he  will  not  long  find 
or  fancy  in  his  experience  any  exception  to  the  rule,  which 
St.  Barnabas  laid  down  in  our  text,  that,  "we  must, 
through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of 
God." 

Now  we  have  not  thus  so  much  either  defended  or 
examined  the  assertion  of  our  text,  as  considered  two  cases 
in  which  a  wrong  use  may  be  made  of  the  passage — the 
one,  that  in  which  the  having  to  endure  tribulation  is  un- 
warrantably taken  in  evidence  of  the  being  truly  religious  ; 
the  other,  that  in  which  comparative  exemption  from  tribu- 
lation is,  as  unwarrantably,  thought  to  prove,  the  not  being 
on  the  way  to  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.     On  the  one  hand. 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  377 

we  have  wished  to  guard  you  against  a  false  comfort ;  on 
the  other,  against  a  false  fear — false  comfort,  which  men 
may  draw  from  their  griefs ;  false  fear,  which  they  may 
ground  on  their  blessings. 

But  let  us  not  forget  that  the  Church  commemorates 
this  day  the  son  of  consolation  ;  and  let  us  now,  therefore, 
observe  that  the  text  affixes  a  particular  character  to  afflic- 
tions, as  the  ordinary  instruments  through  which  God  fits 
his  people  for  their  glorious  inheritance.  For  you  may 
clearly  see,  from  the  mode  of  expression  which  he  adopts, 
that  Barnabas  does  not  merely  assert  a  fact,  that  we  shall 
have  "  much  tribulation :"  he  alleges  a  suitableness,  that 
this  "  much  tribulation"  is  the  due  preparation  for  the  king- 
dom. "  We  must," — it  behoves,  it  is  needful  for  us.  He 
gives  much  the  same  representation  as  is  given  in  the  verse 
already  quoted  from  St.  Paul,  u  Our  light  affliction,  which 
is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  fur  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  But  how  "  worketh  for  us  ?" 
The  Apostle  cannot  mean  that  the  affliction  produces  the 
glory,  in  any  thing  of  the  sense  in  which  a  cause  produces 
an  effect.  It  does  not  work  for  us  glory,  as  if  it  made  sat- 
isfaction for  sin,  and  opened  to  us  Heaven.  This  is  the 
error  that  has  been  combated  in  an  earlier  part  of  our  dis- 
course ;  and  again  and  again  be  it  said,  that  no  amount  of 
suffering  here  can  be  taken  in  substitution  for  suffering 
hereafter.  O  ye 'children  of  sorrow,  dream  of  any  thing 
rather  than  of  what  ye  endure  now  excusing  you  from 
future  punishment,  or  giving  you  a  sort  of  title  to  rest 
beyond  the  grave.  But  affliction  "  worketh  for  us  glory" 
in  the  sense  of  preparing,  or  fitting,  us  for  glory :  God 
thereby  disciplines  his  people,  detaches  them  from  earthly 


378  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lkct. 

things,  refines  their  affections :  it  is  in  the  furnace  of  trial 
that  He  makes  them  holier,  using  the  trial  to  burn  out,  so 
to  speak,  the  indwelling  corruption  ;  and  whatsoever  tends 
to  increase  present  holiness,  tends  equally  to  increase  future 
happiness;  there  beiug,  as  we  are  taught,  an  appointed 
projjortion  between  the  two,  or  rather,  the  one  containing 
in  it  the  germ,  or  even  the  very  essence  of  the  other. 

And  thus,  also,  as  affliction  worketh  for  us  glory,  work- 
ing in  us  meetness,  or  fitness,  for  glory,  so  is  it  necessary 
that,  through  much  tribulation,  we  enter  the  Kingdom. 
Not  indeed  that  the  tribulation  is  indispensable  ;  for  God, 
if  He  pleased,  could  make  us  ready  for  the  Kingdom, 
through  some  other  process  than  that  of  "much  tribula- 
tion ;"  but  the  "  much  tribulation"  is  his  ordinary  course ; 
so  that,  as  a  general  rule,  we  "  must"  endure  it,  we  must 
look  to  endure  it,  if  we  hope  for  final  entrance  to  a  land 
of  light  and  life.  And  what  a  character  does  this  give  to 
tribulation !  I  understand  from  this  what  St.  Paul  means 
when  he  says,  "We  glory  in  tribulations."  Glory  in 
them !  was  then  the  Apostle  a  Stoic  ?  did  he  profess  to 
make  light  of  pain,  and  to  count  it  no  evil  ?  Nay,  it  was 
no  Stoic  that  could  say,  as  he  said  of  Epaphroditus,  "  He 
was  sick  nigh  unto  death  ;  but  God  had  mercy  on  him, 
and  not  on  him  only,  but  on  me  also,  lest  I  should  have 
sorrow  upon  sorrow."  And  in  place  of  accounting  pain 
no  evil,  this  same  Apostle  hath  elsewhere  distinctly  said, 
"  No  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but 
grievous."  Yea,  and  you  should  carefully  observe  that 
our  text  is  so  constructed  as  to  show  that  Barnabas  and 
Paul  Avere  not  laying  down  a  rule  for  others,  frc  m  which 
they  were  to  be  exempted  themselves.     There  is  a  sudden 


XIX.]  ST.  BARNABAS.  379 

change  of  persons  in  the  verse.  You  observe  that,  the 
third  person  having  been  used,  whilst  mention  is  made  of 
the  Apostles  as  "  confirming  the  souls  of  the  disciples,  and 
exhorting  them  to  continue  in  the  faith,"  the  first  person 
is  employed  when  the  discourse  comes  to  turn  on  the 
tribulations  which  would  have  to  be  endured.  "We  must, 
through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of 
God."  It  is  as  though  Barnabas  and  Saul,  when  they  had 
to  speak  of  suffering,  from  which  nature  is  most  averse, 
were  careful  to  have  it  understood,  that  they  were  speak- 
ing of  that  in  which  themselves  had  full  share:  it  is  as 
though  St.  Luke,  when  recording  the  exhortation  for  the 
instruction  of  the  Church  in  every  age,  was  directed  to 
throw  it  into  such  form,  that  no  one  should  ever  be  able 
to  read  the  latter  part,  without  being  reminded  that  it 
included  himself. 

But  if  St.  Paul  thus  identify  himself  with  tribulation, 
and  if,  from  expressions  already  quoted,  he  were  no  Stoic, 
but  thoroughly  sensitive  to  tribulation,  how  are  we  to 
explain  his  glorying  in  tribulation  ?  how  could  he  "glory 
in  tribulation,"  and  yet  reckon  chastening  not  to  be  "joy- 
ous but  grievous  ?"    This  is  easily  explained.    He  reckoned 
tribulation  grievous   in  itself;  but  he  gloried  in  it  as  a 
preparation  for  Heaven.     He  felt  it  to  be  an  evil ;  but  he 
would  not  have  been  without  it  for  any  thing  which  you 
could  have  offered  him;  it  was  making  him  ready  for  the 
blessed  abode  which  Christ  had  made  ready  for  him ;  and 
he  knew  that  the  one  preparation  was  just  as  needful  as 
the  other— what  availed  it  that  the  place  should  be  pre- 
pared for  the  inhabitant,  unless  the  inhabitant  were  also 
prepared  for  the  place?     Heaven  can  be  Heaven  to  those 


380  ST.  BARNABAS.  [Lect. 

only  who  are  made  meet  for  Heaven :  should  he  then 
glory  in  the  rearing  of  the  palace,  and  in  the  throwing 
open  its  doors?  and  should  he  not  also  glory  in  what 
schooled  him  to  pass  the  gates,  and  find  a  home  in  the 
magnificent  structure  ?  He  gloried  then  in  tribulation — 
not  from  him  would  come  congratulatory  speech  on  be- 
holding a  Christian  apparently  exempt  from  visitations  of 
trouble.  His  congratulations  were  more  likely  to  have 
been  heard,  when  sorrow  had  broken,  as  an  armed  man, 
into  a  household,  and  grief  had  set  up  its  abode,  like  one 
who  did  not  mean  to  be  speedily  or  easily  dislodged. 
"  We  glory  in  tribulations,  knowing  that  tribulation  work- 
eth  patience,  and  patience  experience,  and  experience 
hope."  Who  then  can  wish  to  be  without  tribulation? 
It  were  caring  but  little  for  the  Kingdom,  to  care  much  for 
the  tribulation  through  which  we  must  enter  it. 

Nay,  and  this  is  but  a  half  statement :  this  is  as  though 
tribulation  were  only  a  something  to  be  passed  through ; 
whereas  it  is  a  preparation :  it  is  that  out  of  which  glory 
is  to  grow:  tears  turn  to  jewels  in  the  crown;  sighs  to 
songs  upon  the  harp ;  poverty  becomes  wealth ;  bereave- 
ment, possession ;  contumely,  triumph.  Again,  therefore, 
we  ask,  who  would  wish  to  be  without  tribulation? 
Whilst  indeed  God  is  pleased  to  keep  sorrow  from  your 
doors,  it  is  not  for  you  to  seek  it,  but  rather  to  take  thank- 
fully the  blessing  and  the  brightness  so  graciously  be- 
stowed: and,  whilst  you  have  the  heart  to  keep  with  all 
diligence,  and  sin  to  reprove  with  all  faithfulness,  you  will 
always,  as  we  have  shown  you,  have  trouble  enough  to 
employ  you,  and  to  exercise.  But  do  not  shrink,  if  there 
be  signs  as  of  the  disturbing  of  the  external  peacefulness, 


XIX]  ST.  BARNABAS. 


381 


if  the  clouds  begin  to  gather,  and  God  seem  about  to  give 
you  "  the  bread  of  adversity,  and  the  water  of  affliction." 
Rather  prepare  to  bid  sorrow  welcome.     Rather  receive  it 
with  a  solemn  joy,  with  a  thankful  submission.     There  are 
other  forms  which  attend   its  sad  and   measured   march, 
besides  those  of  anxiety  and  anguish.     As  it  approaches, 
palled  in  deep  night,  there  are  other  voices,  which  fall  on 
the  listening  ear  of  faith,  besides  those  which   swell  the 
shriek  and  mingle  in   the  dirge.     The  spirits  of  the  de- 
parted righteous  throng  about  calamity,   as  it  turns  its 
fatal  step  towards  the  believer's  door.     Their  utterance  it 
is,  which  is  so    distinctly   and  sweetly  heard,   amid  the 
murmurings  of  the  gathering   storm,  "O  child  of  God, 
wouldst  thou  be   without  chastisement,   whereof  all    are 
partakers?"  wouldst  thou  forget  thy  Master's  word,  "In 
the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation,  but  be  of  good  cheer, 
I  have  overcome  the  world  ?"  wouldst  thou  be  an  excep- 
tion to  an  experience  whereof  all  we  are  witnesses— ay, 
and  the  son  of  consolation  it  was  who  spake  the  words— 
that,  "  through  much  tribulation  must  men  enter  into  the 
Kingdom  of  God." 


LECTURE  XX. 


Ijiirititnl  fclittt. 


Galatians  v.  7. 
"  Ye  did  run  well ;  who  did  binder  you  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  i" 

In  a  recent  discourse,  we  took  occasion,  from  what  is  re- 
corded of  Asa — that  his  heart  was  perfect,  though  the  high 
places  were  not  removed  out  of  Israel — to  speak  to  you  of 
the  possibility  that  there  might  be  decay  at  the  heart  in 
the  matter  of  religion,  though  as  yet  the  life  gave  no  signs 
of  spiritual  decline.  But  we  have  since  felt  as  if  we  had 
not  gone  sufficiently  iuto  so  important  a  matter,  as  if  we 
had  not  examined  with  due  accuracy  the  symptoms  of  the 
insidious  disease,  as  if  we  had  not  exposed  with  due  faith- 
fulness how  frequent  its  occurrence,  and  how  fatal  its  ten- 
dency. And  as  I  purpose  leaving  you  to-day  for  a  brief 
period  of  necessary  relaxation,  I  should  not  feel  easy  if  I 
did  not  go  at  greater  length,  and  with  greater  minuteness, 
into  this  matter  of  spiritual  decline — for  how  possible  it 
may  be — ought  I  not  even  to  say,  how  probable? — that 
there  are  some  amongst  you  who  have  begun  well  in  a 
Christian  course,  but  who  have  been  gradually  growing 


SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  383 

slacker  and   slacker,  less  earnest  in  duty,  less  fervent  in 
affection  ;  and  to  whom  therefore  may  fitly  be  addressed 
the  pathetic  remonstrance  of   St.   Paul  to  the  Galatians, 
"  Ye  did  run  well ;  who  did  hinder  you  that  ye  should  not 
obey  the  truth  ?"     Perhaps  we  shall  only  be  repeating — at 
all  events,   only   amplifying — the   statement  in   a  former 
discourse :  but  better  do  this,  better  weary  you  with  repe- 
tition, than   run  any  risk   of  leaving  you  with  vague  and 
indefinite  notions,  where  it  so  much  concerns  your  safety 
that  you  should  be  alive  to  your  danger.     Observe  then, 
that,  if  we  take  as  our  topic  of  discourse  what  is  called 
spiritual   declension ;    if    we    endeavour   to  examine   the 
symptoms,   and  expose  the  peril,  of   that    moral   disease 
which   eats  away  religion  in  the  soul ;  we  are  not  to  be 
regarded  as  speaking  only  to  those — though  such  are  not 
excluded — who  prove,  by  outward   and  undeniable  signs, 
that  they  are  forsaking  their  God  and  Redeemer — the  dis- 
ease is  rather  one  which,  like  that  fatal  malady,  which 
leaves  the  cheek  beautiful  and  the  eye  brilliant,  whilst  it 
rapidly  undermines  the  strength,  may  allow  external  ap- 
pearances to  continue  specious  and  flattering,  though  the 
work  of  death  is  fast  going  on  within.     Observe,  for  in- 
stance, what  is  said,  in  the  Book  of  Revelation,  of  the 
Ephesian  Church.     "  I  know  thy  works,  and  thy  labour, 
and   thy  patience ;    and   how  thou   canst  not  bear  them 
which  are  evil ;  and  thou  hast  tried  them  which  say  they 
are  Apostles,  and  are  not,  and  hast  found  them  liars ;  and 
hast  borne,  and  hast  patience,  and  for  my  name's  sake  hast 
laboured,  and  hast  not  fainted."     Here,  by  a  reduplication, 
and  even  a  repetition,  of  epithets,  the  idea  is  strongly  con- 
veyed of  an  active,  persevering,  and  patient  religion — a 


384  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

Church,  of  which  all  this  could  be  said,  must  have  been 
distinguished  by  great  readiness  both  to  do  and  suffer  in 
the  cause  of  God  and  his  Christ.  Yet  the  next  words  are, 
"  Nevertheless  I  have  somewhat  against  thee,  because  thou 
hast  left  thy  first  love."  It  is  not  laid  to  the  charge  of  the 
Ephesian  Christians,  it  is  not  even  insinuated,  that  they 
laboured  less  than  at  first — but  it  is  distinctly  asserted, 
that  they  loved  less,  as  though  that,  which  alone  can  give 
the  action  any  worth,  may  be  on  the  wane  whilst  in  the 
action  itself  there  is  no  perceptible  difference. 

Let  us  set  ourselves,  then,  to  the  examining  whether  men 
may  not  have  a  name  to  live  whilst  they  are  dead  in  God's 
sight.  May  God  enable  us  to  be  at  once  faithful  and  affec- 
tionate in  detecting  and  exposing  the  signs  of  a  disease, 
under  which,  as  we  have  said,  it  is  but  too  possible  that 
some  amongst  you  may  be  labouring,  the  disease  of  reli- 
gious decline.  May  his  Spirit,  without  which  there  can  be 
no  right  understanding  of  the  things  of  religion,  be  our 
guide  whilst  we  endeavour  to  show  you,  in  the  first  place, 
how  you  may  find  out  whether,  according  to  the  words  of 
our  text,  you  are  ceasing  to  "  run  well ;"  and  in  the  second 
place,  what  reasons  there  are  for  regarding  the  condition 
so  described  as  one  of  pre-eminent  danger. 

Now  we  have  already  pointed  out  to  you  that  there 
certainly  was  spiritual  decline  in  the  case  of  the  Ephesian 
Christians — they  no  longer  had  that  ardent  affection  which 
they  had  felt  and  displayed  when  first  converted  from 
idolatry  :  they  were  not  as  warm  in  their  love  towards 
God  and  the  Saviour;  and  they  are  plainly  told,  that, 
unless  they  repented,  and  did  the  first  works,  they  should 
quickly  be  visited  with  the  removal  of  their  candlestick. 


XX.-]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  385 

But  in  the  last  also  of  the  Apocalyptic  Epistles,  which  is 
that  to  the  Church  of  the  Laodiceans,  you  have  a  denunci- 
ation of  lukewarmness,  the  being  neither  hot  nor  cold  in 
religion,  and  an  assertion  of  such  indignation  as  felt  in  con- 
sequence by  God,  as  you  can  scarcely  perhaps  find  ex- 
pressed in  any  other  part  of  Scripture.  This  lukewarm- 
ness which  is  charged  on  the  Laodiceans,  can  be  only  a 
greater  degree  of  that  leaving  their  first  love  which  is 
charged  on  the  Ephesians ;  and  the  utter  loathing,  with 
which  the  lukewarm  are  spoken  of,  must  indicate,  that, 
where  spiritual  declension  has  gone  far,  the  man  who  is  its 
subject  is  held  of  God  in  perfect  abhorrence.  The  lan- 
guage in  our  text  will  apply  to  any  or  all  of  the  stages  of 
the  disease — for  the  ceasing  to  run  well  may  indicate  a 
slight,  and  almost  imperceptible,  decline  of  speed,  and  ex- 
tend also  to  the  slow  and  hesitating  step  which  can  scarcely 
be  said  to  make  any  progress  in  the  heavenward  path. 
Thus  there  may  be  various  stages  of  the  disease ;  from  that 
of  the  man,  in  whom  love  is  not  quite  as  ardent  as  at  the 
first,  to  that  of  another,  in  whom  it  scaroe  retains  any 
thing  of  its  original  fervour.  Amongst  those  who  have 
really  "  run  well"  in  religion,  and  who  still,  to  all  outward 
appearance,  are  true  servants  of  Christ,  we  may  have  many 
who  are  wasting  away  through  the  spiritual  consumption — 
some  on  whom  the  malady  has  only  just  gained  a  hold, 
and  others  whom  it  has  already  reduced  to  little  more 
than  moral  skeletons.  But  whilst  we  endeavour  to  lay 
before  you  certain  of  the  symptoms  of  spiritual  decline, 
you  must  be  honest  and  fearless  with  yourselves :  if  you 
will  not,  as  we  proceed,  search  into  your  own  cases,  and 
see  how  far  they  answer  to  our  description,  in  vain  might 
25 


386  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

we  depict  with  a  most  thorough  accuracy  the  signs  and 
stages  of  insidious  disease.  Come  then,  let  conscience  do 
its  part,  and  we  may,  by  God's  help,  assist  you  in  deter- 
mining this  most  momentous  of  questions,  Might  St.  Paul 
say  of  us,  as  of  the  Galatians  of  old,  "  Ye  did  run  well ; 
who  did  hinder  you  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  ?" 

Now  the  first  test,  to  which  we  would  bring  the  pro- 
fessing Christian,  anxious  to  determine  whether  he  is  ceas- 
ing to  run  well,  is  that  furnished  by  secret  prayer,  and  the 
study  of  God's  word.     When  a  man  is  first  brought  to  a 
sense  of  the   evil  of  sin,  and  of  the  graciousness  of  the 
deliverance  wrought  out  for  him  by  Christ,  he  is  frequent 
and  fervent  in  prayer,  and  he  reads  with  great  earnestness 
the  pages  of  Scripture.     And  if  he  go  on  "  running  well" 
in  religion,  he  will  be  increasingly  diligent  in  these  private 
duties,  finding,  every  day,  more  and  more  against  which, 
and  for   which,  to  pray;  and  feeling  the  Bible  to  be  a 
store-house  of  instruction  from  which  it  is  his  privilege 
continually  to  draw.     But  now  suppose,  that,  in  j)lace  of 
this,  the  Christian  grows  remiss  in  spiritual  exercises,  glad 
of  an  excuse  for  shortening  his  devotions,  easily  satisfied 
with  any  reason  for  omitting  them,  and  speedily  wearied 
when  he  engages  in  their  performance — what  are  we  to 
say  of  him,  if  not  that  he  presents  one  great  symptom  of 
spiritual  decline  ?     Prayer  is  not  inaptly  called  the  breath- 
ing of  the  soul;  and  you  may  be  sure,  that,  where  this 
grows  shorter  and  more  difficult,  there  is  no  healthful  play 
in  the  organs  of  life.     If  any  one  of  you  is  beginning  to 
abbreviate   his    seasons    of  private   devotion,   reading   a 
chapter  or  two  less  of  the  Bible,  spending  fewer  moments 
in  meditation,  in  self-examination,  and  in  supplication  for 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  387 

others  and  himself — and  all,  not  because  he  has  actually 
less  time  at  his  disposal,  but  less  will  to  devote  it  to  such 
occupation — let  that  man  look  at  once  to  his  state :  the 
fervency  is  departing  from  the  love :  the  disease  has 
already  made  inroad  on  the  spiritual  constitution:  he  "did 
run  well;"  alas,  what  has  hindered  him  that  he  is  no 
longer  obedient  to  the  truth  ? 

And  as  one  great  symptom  of  spiritual  declension  may 
be  gathered  from  the  more  private  means  of  grace,  so  may 
another  from  the  more  public.  The  Christian,  in  whom 
vital  religion  is  in  a  healthy  estate,  attaches  great  worth 
to  the  public  ordinances,  finding  it  vastly  for  his  edifica- 
tion and  comfort  to  join  the  worshipping  assembly,  to 
listen  to  the  preaching  of  the  Word,  and  to  receive  those 
sacred  elements  which  both  represent  and  convey  the 
body  and  blood  of  his  Redeemer.  He  would  not  willingly 
absent  himself  from  the  congregation  ;  for  he  has  learnt 
to  exclaim  with  one  of  old,  "  How  amiable  are  thy  taber- 
nacles !"  "  I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go 
into  the  house  of  the  Lord."  He  does  not  require  to  have 
the  messages  of  the  Gospel  adorned  for  him  by  human 
rhetoric :  it  is  the  simple,  beautiful  truth,  which  he  loves, 
and  which  came  home  to  him  so  thrillingly  when  first 
brought  to  know  the  Lord ;  and  this  he  recognises  and 
prizes,  however  humble  the  garb  under  which  it  is  pre- 
sented. Neither  can  he  be  content  with  occasional  com- 
munion, neglecting  as  frequently  as  he  attends  the  most 
solemn  rite  of  our  religion  ;  he  knows  his  need  of  that 
flesh  which  is  meat  indeed,  and  of  that  blood  which  is 
drink  indeed ;  and  thankfully  avails  himself  of  every 
opportunity  of  obtaining  spiritual   sustenance.      Such    is 


388  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

the  Christian  when  his  first  love  is  in  its  strength,  when  he 
is  "  running  well,"  with  the  first  vigour  of  dedication  to 
God.  But  suppose  him  to  become  less  assiduous,  and  more 
formal,  in  the  public  duties  of  religion ;  suppose  that  he 
easily  finds  excuses  for  staying  away  from  church — a 
degree  of  sickness,  or  a  state  of  the  weather,  which  would 
never  keep  him  from  any  worldly  engagement,  keeping 
him  from  public  worship — suppose  that  he  get  satiated 
with  the  simple  Gospel,  and  cannot  be  contented,  unless 
he  have  flowery  and  oratorical  preaching:  suppose,  yet 
further,  that  he  reduces  his  sacramental  attendances  to 
certain  high  festivals,  communicating  at  Christmas,  Whit- 
suntide, and  Easter,  but  finding  no  inconvenience  from 
spiritually  fasting  all  the  year  besides — what  are  we  to  say 
of  him,  if  not  that  he  has  ceased  to  "  run  well  ?"  he  is 
losing  the  spiritual  appetite,  so  that  he  no  longer  "  hungers 
and  thirsts  after  righteousness" — can  we  doubt  then  the 
progress  of  the  spiritual  decline  ? 

But  let  us  take  other  symptoms,  equally  decisive, 
though  perhaps  more  easily  overlooked.  There  is  no 
feeling  stronger  in  a  genuine  Christian,  than  that  of  a 
desire  to  promote  God's  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  his 
fellow-men.  The  consciousness  of  having  received  vast 
and  unmerited  benefits,  the  sense  of  gratitude  for  his  own 
deliverance  from  condemnation,  the  apprehension  of  the 
greatness  of  that  wrath  which  will  overtake  the  impeni- 
tent— these  constrain  him,  whilst  warm  with  first  love,  to 
the  counting  nothing  too  costly  or  laborious,  so  that  Christ 
may  be  magnified,  and  those  who  are  sitting  in  darkness 
may  see  a  great  light.  But  suppose  him  to  become  com- 
paratively indifferent  to  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel — not 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  389 

indeed  withdrawing  his  subscriptions  from  societies,  but 
taking  little  or  no  interest  in  their  failure  or  success ;  not 
declining  all  part  in  the  enterprises  of  Christian  philan- 
thropy, but  engagiug  only  so  far  as  there  is  bustle,  and 
show,  and  excitement — so  that  it  is  not  wTith  the  heart, 
though  it  may  be  with  the  purse  and  the  hand,  that  he 
helps  forward  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer — ah,  who  will 
say  that  there  is  no  abatement  in  the  "  running  well  ?"  who 
will  deny  the  spiritual  declension  ? 

And  again — there  is  a  broad  line  of  separation  between 
men  of  the  world,  and  men  of  religion.  Those  who  have 
been  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  their  minds,  and  those  who 
are  still  in  the  alienation  of  nature,  differ  immeasurably 
the  one  from  the  other,  and  cannot  unite,  except  as  the 
former  abandon  their  principles,  or  the  latter  undergo  a 
great  moral  change.  And  the  healthful  Christian  is  quite 
aware  of  this.  He  knows  that  separation  from  the  world 
must  be  his  distinguishing  characteristic ;  and  he  guards 
accordingly,  with  godly  jealousy,  against  any  such  conform- 
ity as  would  do  violence  to  his  profession.  His  conscience 
is  tender ;  and  whensoever  there  may  be  doubt  as  to  what 
is  lawful  for  him,  and  what  unlawful,  he  will  always  take 
the  safe  side,  feeling  it  better  for  him  to  give  up  what  he 
might  have  retained,  than  to  retain  what  he  ought  to  give 
up.  But  there  may  be,  and  often  is,  a  great  change  in 
these  respects.  The  man  of  religion  comes  to  view  the 
world  with  less  fear  and  repugnance.  He  fancies  that  he 
has  been  hitherto  overstrict,  and  that  he  might  safely 
conform,  more  closely  than  he  has  done,  to  the  customs 
and  fashions  of  the  ungodly.  The  conscience  grows  more 
accommodating ;  and  now  the  calculation  is,  how  far  he 


390  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

may  venture,  how  much  of  earthly  pleasure  he  may  allow 
himself,  how  nearly  he  may  sail  on  the  same  tack  with 
the  world,  without  actually  steering  for  the  same  port. 
Alas,  this  is  among  the  strongest  of  symptoms,  that  the 
man  has  ceased  from  "  running  well :"  he  who  is  less  and 
less  scrupulous  as  to  the  being  "  conformed  to  this  world," 
must  be  already  far  gone  in  spiritual  decline. 

And  not  unlike  the  symptom  of  making  light  of  the 
difference  between  the  religious  and  the  worldly,  is  that  of 
the  makiug  light  of  differences  between  various  creeds. 
The  peculiar  and  distinguishing  doctrines  of  the  Gospel 
are  prized  by  the  genuine  and  ardent  Christian,  as  treasures 
without  which  he  were  unutterably  poor.  It  is  not  as  the 
tenets  of  the  Church  to  which  he  belongs  that  he  values 
them — he  rests  on  them  all  his  hopes  of  everlasting  happi- 
ness ;  and  he,  therefore,  who  attacks  them,  seeks  to  rob 
him  of  his  all,  and  leave  him  bankrupt  for  eternity. 
Hence  he  looks  with  abhorrence  on  Sociuianism :  it  would 
strip  Christ  of  divinity ;  and  this,  he  feels,  were  to  strip 
himself  of  immortality.  He  looks  with  dread  upon  Po- 
pery :  by  its  fables  and  falsehoods,  though  mixed  with  fun- 
damental truths,  it  keeps  the  sinner  from  the  Saviour,  and 
substitutes  dross  for  gold ;  and  whatever  obscures  the 
mediatorial  work  involves  him  in  a  darkness  from  which 
he  can  find  no  escape.  But  this  repugnance  to  error  may 
not  continue.  Whilst  thoroughly  orthodox  in  hi-;  creed, 
he  may  be  less  alive  to  the  importance  of  its  doctrines. 
He  may  come  to  look  more  leniently  upon  heresy,  con- 
founding bigotry  with  the  honest  attachment  of  truth,  and 
mistaking  for  charity  a  growing  indifference a to  falsehood. 
And  wherever  there  is  any  of  this  lowered  sense  of  the 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  391 

indispensableness  of  fundamental  truth,  and  of  an  increas- 
ing disposition  to  think  lightly  of  wrong  systems  of  reli- 
gion— as  though,  after  all,  the  heretical  and  orthodox,  the 
reformed  and  unreformed,  if  there  were  but  a  few  mutual 
concessions,  might  meet  on  the  same  ground,  and  shake 
hands  as  brethren — you  may  be  sure  that  the  Christian 
course  is  ceasing  to  be  "  well  run :"  whilst  that  proceeds 
vigorously,  the  relish  for  truth  is  shown  by  a  loathing  of 
falsehood ;  but  when  that  grows  languid,  the  taste  is  less 
keen ;  error  is  no  longer  nauseated :  the  world  applauds 
the  Christian  for  having  become  liberal,  whereas  he  should 
grieve  over  himself  as  having  become  lukewarm. 

These,  then,  are  certain  of  the  symptoms,  by  which  you 
may  detect  the  presence  of  spiritual  consumption.  Though 
all  should  moreover  remember,  that  it  is  against  the  very 
nature  of  religion  to  suppose  a  man  stationary ;  so  that 
any  one  who  sees  no  reason  to  hope  that  he  is  advancing, 
has  reason  for  fear  that  he  is  declining.  Judge  then  your- 
selves, ye  who  would  know  whether  ye  are  the  subjects  of 
spiritual  declension — can  ye  find  cause  to  hope,  after  a 
rigid  process  of  self-examination,  that  ye  are  the  subjects 
of  spiritual  advancement?  Are  you  more  humble  than 
you  were,  more  sensible  of  your  sinfulness,  stronger  in 
faith,  warmer  in  love,  less  attached  to  earthly  things,  more 
attracted  by  heavenly  ?  Is  it  a  greater  privilege  to  you  to 
pray,  a  less  labour  to  be  obedient  ?  Have  you  a  firmer  com- 
mand over  your  passions  ?  is  the  ty  ill  more  in  harmony 
with  the  divine  ?  is  the  conscience  more  sensitive,  and  is 
the  judgment  prompter  in  deciding  for  the  right  against 
the  agreeable  ?  In  prosperity,  have  you  less  of  pride  and 
self-confidence  ?  in  adversity,  have  you  more  of  patience 


392  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

and  acquiescence  ?  Indeed,  if  you  have  cause  to  conclude 
that  you  have  stood  still,  you  have  verily  cause  to  conclude 
that  you  have  gone  back. 

But  we  have  now  spoken  sufficiently  on  the  symptoms 
of  spiritual  decline,  sufficiently,  we  mean,  for  every  practi- 
cal purpose — our  object  being  that  of  enabling  the  sick 
man  to  determine  whether  he  have  the  disease,  and  not 
that  of  curiously  noting  down  every  sign  and  shade  of 
the  malady.  It  is  our  business  to  endeavour  to  come  down 
amongst  you,  as  a  physician,  with  his  instruments  in  his 
hands,  that  we  may  determine,  if  possible,  whether  the 
lungs  be  yet  sound,  and  whether  consumption  may  not 
lurk  where  there  is  no  taint  as  yet  on  the  outward  appear- 
ance. We  apply  our  instruments,  or  rather,  we  entreat 
you  to  apply  them  for  yourselves.  It  is  nothing  to  us  that 
your  profession  is  still  that  of  godliness,  and  that  you  have 
not  visibly  returned  to  the  world  and  its  iniquities.  It  is 
an  insidious  disease,  of  which  we  are  in  quest — not  open 
apostacy,  which  all  might  discover  and  denounce, — but 
secret  declension,  which  may  be  scarcely  detected,  till  it 
have  reached  its  last  stage.  "We  try  you  by  what  you  are 
when  on  your  knees  :  we  try  you  by  what  you  are  when 
brought  into  God's  house,  and  by  what,  when  exposed  to 
the  cold  winds  of  the  world.  We  listen  for  the  beatiugs 
of  the  heart:  we  inquire  what  lassitude  is  produced  by 
exercise,  and  what  food  taken  with  appetite.  And  with 
all  frankness,  but  yet  with  all  affection,  we  assure  those  of 
you  who  may  be  making  a  Christian  profession,  that,  if 
they  have  fallen  into  habits  of  shortening  their  season  of 
private  devotion — and,  much  more,  if  they  have  no  such 
seasons  at  all — if  they  have  comparatively  no  relish  for 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  393 

the  simple  Gospel,  but  must  have  it  garnished  up  by  man, 
before  it  can  be  palatable  ;  if  they  can  do  without  the 
Sacrament,  except  on  high  festivals ;  if  they  can  conform 
themselves  to  the  world  as  nearly  as  they  dare,  and  are 
always  calculating  how  small  a  sacrifice  will  serve  for  reli- 
gion if  they  think ;  less  of  the  differences  between  error 
and  falsehood,  and  reckon  it  charitable  to  become  latitudi- 
narian — ay,  and  even  if,  on  a  careful  review  of  past  years, 
they  cannot  judge  themselves  to  have  advanced  in  spiritual- 
mindedness,  and  those  various  graces  which  are  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit — we  tell  them,  that  if  they  find,  not  all,  but 
any,  of  these  symptoms  in  themselves,  they  ought  to  con- 
clude that  disease  has  begun,  if  it  have  not  already  made 
fatal  progress  :  they  may  still  be  able  to  appeal  to  their 
works,  their  labour,  and  their  patience  ;  but  they  ought  to 
feel  that  St.  Paul,  were  he  on  earth,  would  address  them 
as  he  addressed  the  Galatians,  "  Ye  did  run  well ;  who  did 
hinder  you  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  ?" 

And  here  we  come  to  the  considering  the  daugerousness 
of  the  state  which  is  thus  metaphorically  described — for 
some  of  you  might  be  disposed  to  say,  Well,  what  if  we  be 
not  running  as  well  as  we  did,  we  may  still  be  running 
sufficiently  well  to  reach  Heaven  at  last.  But  if  you  re- 
member how  our  Lord  reasoned  in  regard  of  salt  which 
lost  its  savour,  you  will  be  forced  to  the  conclusion,  that  he 
who  has  the  disease  on  which  we  discourse,  must  almost  be 
considered  as  having  entered  "  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death."  "  If  the  salt  have  lost  his  savour,  wherewith 
shall  it  be  seasoned  ?  It  is  neither  fit  for  the  land,  nor  yet 
for  the  dunghill,  but  men  cast  it  out."  It  is  not  the  diffi- 
culty of  infusing  salt  at  first,  on  which  these  words  bear ; 


394  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

but  the  difficulty,  when  salt  has  been  infused,  and  its 
strength  has  evaporated,  of  restoring  the  savour  which  it 
originally  possessed.  And  in  like  manner  the  grand  diffi- 
culty is  not  that  of  producing  Christian  love  at  the  first, 
but  of  restoring  its  heat,  when  it  has  been  suffered  to  grow 
cold.  But  why  should  the  difficulty  be  greater  ?  might  it 
not  be  thought  that  it  would  even  be  less,  seeing  that  the 
man,  who  has  only  degenerated,  is  not,  at  least,  insensible 
to  the  claims  of  religion,  and  has  proved  himself  not  in- 
vulnerable to  moral  attack  ?  We  reply  that,  even  amongst 
ourselves,  and  in  reference  to  human  attachments,  the  diffi- 
culty of  reviving  a  decayed  affection  is  almost  proverbial. 
The  party  who  has  loved,  and  then  ceased  to  love,  is,  of 
all  others,  the  least  likely  to  love  again.  If  the  fire  of 
affection  have  once  gone  out,  it  is  of  all  things  the  hardest 
to  re-illumine  the  embers.  And  the  difficulty  which  is  ex- 
perienced in  the  revival  of  a  human  affection  must  be 
looked  for,  when  it  is  the  love  of  God  and  of  Christ  which 
has  grown  languid.  You  are  to  observe  that  a  great  deal 
must  have  been  done  for  the  man  in  whom  the  love  of 
God  has  once  been  kindled.  The  Spirit  of  God  must  have 
striven  with  this  man,  striven  with  him  successfully,  so  as 
to  have  roused  in  him  the  dormant  immortality,  and  brought 
him  to  some  experience  of  the  power  of  the  Gospel.  But 
this  Divine  agent  will  not  persist  in  working  where  there 
is  no  earnestness  in  holding  fast  what  has  already  been 
wrought.  If  He  have  given  some  measure  of  spiritual 
warmth,  and  you  expose  yourselves  to  damp,  or  unneces- 
sarily permit  the  cold  winds  of  temptation  to  beat  on  you, 
He  will  work  with  less  and  less  energy,  or  communicate 
less  and  less  of  animating  grace. 


XA.J  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  395 

It  is  very  mainly  on  this  account  that  we  look  with  so 
much  apprehension  on  any  case  of  spiritual  decline.  It  is 
not  the  actually  irreligious  man  on  whom  the  disease  can 
fasten.  It  must  be  a  man  on  whom  religion  has  had  a 
hold ;  and  in  the  weakening  of  that  hold  is  our  great  evi- 
dence of  his  danger.  For  that  hold  could  not  have  been 
weakened,  except  through  compliances  with  the  world,  or 
omissions  of  known  duty,  for  which  the  man  himself  is 
wholly  answerable,  and  which  not  only  loosen  what  has 
already  been  fastened,  but  alienate  that  Spirit  which  can 
alone  restore  firmness.  And  we  cannot  but  suppose  that 
this  Spirit  is  more  displeased  when  neglected  by  one  in 
whom  He  has  effectually  wrought,  than  when  resisted  by 
another  with  whom  it  has  striven  in  vain. 

There  is  treachery  in  the  first  case,  the  cutting  slight, 
and  the  base  ingratitude,  which  will  be  far  more  likely  to 
grieve  the  Divine  agent  than  the  open  opposition  which 
distinguishes  the  last.  And  if  every  one  of  you  who  may 
be  the  subject  of  spiritual  declension,  can  only  have  be- 
come so  through  provoking  the  withdrawment  of  the 
renewing  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  what  marvel  if  we 
look  upon  him  with  no  common  alarm  ?  How  is  it  that 
the  love  has  lost  its  fervour,  except  that  that  Spirit,  which 
alone  can  keep  it  ardent,  has  withdrawn  its  holy  fires  ?  and 
how  shall  it  be  made  to  burn  again,  if  its  very  dimness  be 
as  much  a  proof  of  your  having  driven  away  that  Spirit, 
as  an  evidence  of  his  departure  ?  the  lost  heat  can  be  re- 
stored by  none  but  God's  Spirit,  and  it  would  not  have 
been  lost,  had  not  that  Spirit  left  man,  in  just  judgment, 
to  himself.  Oh  then,  there  may  be  none  to  prove  to  you 
that  you  are  in  danger  of  eternal  destruction,  because  you 


396  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

have  manifestly  gone  back  to  the  world,  because  you  have 
visibly  restored  the  empire  to  evil,  and  returned  to  open 
enmity  with  righteousness — yet  know  ye  of  a  truth,  that, 
as  involving  the  alienation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  it  is  to 
stand  within  a  hairbreadth  of  everlasting  ruin,  to  stand  in 
such  a  position  that  an  Apostle  might  say  to  you,  as  to 
the  Galatians  of  old,  "Ye  did  run  well;  who  did  hinder 
you  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  ?" 

But,  you  will  say,  the  Spirit  may  be  recalled,  and  then 
the  smothered  flame  may  be  rekindled,  the  lost  speed  re- 
covered. We  will  not  deny  it — God  forbid  that  we 
should.  We  are  not  required  to  make  the  case  out  hope- 
less, but  only  full  of  difficulty.  But  this  we  must  say — 
and  we  say  it  mainly  for  the  warning  of  those  who  are 
still  "running  well" — that  the  very  circumstance  of  the 
having  been  concerned  as  to  religion,  and  then  grown  in- 
different, is  wondrously  calculated  to  prevent  the  use  of 
those  means,  through  which  the  Spirit  may  be  induced  to 
resume  his  abode  in  the  soul.  The  man  is  lukewarm ;  and 
Christ  exclaims  in  the  Epistle  to  the  lukewarm  Laodiceans, 
"  I  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot ;  I 
would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot."  If  this  mean  any  thing,  it 
must  mean  that  Christ  had  more  hope  of  the  cold  than  of 
the  lukewarm — one  thing  or  the  other,  cold  or  hot,  He 
emphatically  wishes  for,  implying  special  abhorrence  of 
that  which  was  neither.  And  we  are  not  surprised  at 
this.  The  man  who  has  cooled  gradually  down,  but  who 
yet  retains  some  measure  of  spiritual  heat,  will  be  the  last 
to  allow  or  suspect  any  danger :  feeling  yet  a  degree  of 
warmth,  he  will  conclude  himself  as  zealous  in  religion  as 
religion  requires,  and  count  it  enthusiasm  to  pretend  or 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  397 

desire  to  be  more.  It  was  thus  with  the  Laodiceans. 
"Thou  sayest,  I  am  rich,  and  increased  with  goods,  and 
have  need  of  nothing,  and  knowest  not  that  thou  art 
wretched  and  miserable,  and  poor  and  blind,  and  naked." 
They  were  self-complacent,  and  self-complacency  was 
amongst  the  worst  features  of  their  state,  because  exactly 
calculated  to  keep  them  what  they  were,  to  prevent  them 
from  discovering,  and  therefore  from  attempting  to  correct 
their  degeneracy.  The  lukewarm  will  have  ordinarily  just 
heat  enough  to  keep  him  from  perceiving  the  cold ;  and 
so,  whilst  the  fire  is  going  out,  he  will  be  quite  pleased 
with  its  blaze.  Here  then  the  question  presses  with  fresh 
force,  how  shall  the  half-extinguished  flame  be  rekindled  ? 
I  know  that  the  Spirit  of  God,  through  its  irresistible  fires, 
could  restore  the  love  to  its  pristine  condition.  Yea,  I 
know  that  this  Spirit,  however  grieved  and  provoked  to 
withdraw  its  influence,  is  ready  to  return,  if  there  be  only 
contrition,  and  an  earnest  desire  to  regain  the  lost  ardour. 
But  it  is  the  very  property  of  the  diminished  heat  to  seem 
hot  enough ;  and  therefore,  not  because  there  is  no  power 
to  warm,  but  no  wish  to  be  warmed,  is  there  a  fearful 
probability  that  the  subject  of  spiritual  decline  will  never 
be  recovered,  but  continue  deteriorating  day  by  day, 
though  up  to  the  very  last  he  may  not  only  pass  with 
others  for  a  genuine  Christian,  but  be  unsuspicious  himself 
that  he  has  no  right  to  the  character. 

And  if  this  decaying  of  the  first  love,  this  declining 
from  the  first  speed,  go  on,  so  that  we  have  the  form  of 
godliness  with  none  of  its  power,  indeed  there  are  perhaps 
no  terms  too  strong  for  the  describing  what  the  professor 
becomes.     Take  away  the  life  from  religion,  leave  us  noth- 


398  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

ing  but  formality — and  there  is  not  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  an  individual  so  useless  to  others  and  himself,  as  the 
one  in  whom  love  remains,  but  remains  in  its  ashes,  and 
not  in  its  fires.  We  are  not  speaking  of  actual  apostacy. 
The  man  who  makes  profession  of  religion,  and  then 
openly  abandons  that  profession,  is  indeed  chargeable  with 
aiming  a  heavy  blow  at  Christianity ;  for  he  publicly  de- 
clares, that,  having  put  the  thing  to  the  proof,  having 
made  trial  for  himself,  he  has  ascertained  it  to  be  better 
and  wiser  to  take  side  with  the  world  than  with  God. 
But  the  apostate  is  not  the  man  in  whom  the  love  has 
merely  lost  its  warmth,  or  the  spiritual  step  its  speed ;  he 
is  the  man  who  has  cast  out  the  love  altogether  ;  there  is 
no  disguise  about  him  ;  whatever  his  disease,  the  symptoms 
are  all  external ;  whatever  his  danger,  it  is  plain  to  every 
eye.  And  this  is  not  the  case  which  we  now  have  in  hand. 
We  are  now  upon  love  which  is  dying  away ;  and  we 
affirm  the  lukewarm  man  useless  to  himself  and  to  others 
— to  himself,  for  such  religion  as  his  will  never  save  him ; 
to  others,  for  such  religion  will  not  enable  him  to  be  in- 
strumental to  the  saving  his  fellow-men.  "  He  that  hath 
ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear  what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the 
Churches."  There  is  no  subject  on  which  you  can  be  ad- 
dressed of  greater  difficulty  and  importance  than  that 
which  is  now  engaging  your  attention.  We  have  endeav- 
oured to  put  you  in  possession  of  the  symptoms  and 
dangers  of  spiritual  disease,  before  leaving  you  for  a  few 
weeks ;  but  we  are  still  quite  dissatisfied ;  for  we  seem  to 
have  altogether  failed  in  expressing  our  own  sense,  whether 
of  the  commonness,  or  of  the  fearfulness,  of  .the  disease, 
which  we  have  wished  to  expose. 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  399 

We  have  striven  to  be  simple  and  faithful,  avoiding  all 
such  speech  as  might  have  diverted  the  mind  from  the 
solemn  points  in  discussion,  and  dealing  with  you  just  as  a 
medical  practitioner  would  deal  with  those  in  whom  he 
feared  that  a  secret  poison  might  be  at  work,  and  whom 
he  was  anxious  to  instruct  in  the  detecting  its  presence. 
And  yet,  before  leaving  you,  we  could  almost  wish  to  go 
over  the  whole  ground  again,  fearing  that  we  have  not 
been  plain  enough,  or  not  explicit  enough,  or  not  earnest 
enough.  For  how  can  we  be  sufficiently  energetic  and 
faithful,  when  it  is  but  too  possible,  that,  even  amongst 
the  apparently  righteous  and  consistent  of  our  hearers, 
there  may  be  going  forwards  a  process  of  decay  ?  so  that 
whilst,  Tuesday  after  Tuesday,  we  summon  the  wicked 
to  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts, 
those  to  whom  the  summons  is  not  addressed,  and  who 
would  never  dream  of  applying  it  to  themselves,  may  be 
wasting  down  into  the  mere  wreck  of  Christianity,  losing 
all  the  strength  of  religion,  and  suffering  all  its  essence  to 
escape. 

Or  if — in  place  of  speaking  especially  to  the  uncon- 
verted— a  class  of  which  we  dare  hardly  doubt  that  it 
constitutes  a  large  section  of  our  hearers,  we  dilate  on  the 
privileges  of  believers,  on  the  freeness  of  their  justification, 
on  the  promises  made  to  them  by  "  God  who  cannot  lie," 
and  on  the  inheritance  reserved  for  them  in  Heaven ;  how 
can  we  be  otherwise  than  startled  as  the  conviction  comes 
over  us,  that  the  discourse  may  be  admired  and  appro- 
priated by  some  who  never  doubt  its  close  reference  to 
themselves,  though  all  the  while  they  may  be  ceasing  to 
"run  well,"  and  may  therefore  be  becoming  the  lukewarm, 


400  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  [Lect. 

whom  Christ  declares  that  He  holds  in  utter  abhorrence  ? 
It  is,  as  we  have  several  times  intimated,  the  insidiousness 
of  the  disease,  which  makes  it  so  difficult  to  cope  with, 
and  so  likely  to  be  fatal.  The  analogy  or  resemblance  is 
continually  forced  on  us,  between  what  our  medical  men 
call  consumption,  and  what  our  theological  call  spiritual 
decline.  You  know  very  well  that  the  presence  of  con- 
sumption is  often  scarcely  suspected,  till  the  patient  is 
diseased  past  recovery.  The  worm  has  been  eating  out 
the  core  of  life ;  and  yet  its  ravages  have  been  overlooked 
— for  the  victim  hardly  seemed  to  languish — and  if  the 
hectic  look  may  have  occasionally  excited  a  parent's  fears, 
they  have  been  quickly  allayed  by  assurances  that  no  pain 
was  felt,  and  by  smiles  which  appeared  prophetic  of  life. 
And  even  when  no  doubt  can  exist  in  the  minds  of  others 
as  to  the  presence  and  progress  of  the  malady,  it  is,  we 
might  almost  say,  one  symptom  of  the  complaint,  that  it 
natters  the  patient,  so  that  often  he  will  be  expecting 
recovery  on  the  day  of  his  death.  Every  clergyman  who 
visits  the  sick  has  seen  much  of  this.  It  is  not  an  un- 
frequent  feeling  in  young  persons,  that  they  should  like  to 
die  of  consumption,  because  they  suppose  this  lingering 
mode  of  quitting  life  well  adapted  to  preparation  for  the 
last  dread  account.  But  they  little  know  with  what  diffi- 
culty the  consumptive  patient  is  brought  to  look  death  in 
the  face  ;  there  is  perhaps  no  disease  which  less  tells  its 
victim  what  its  fatal  errand  is  ;  you  know  how  beautifully 
brilliant  it  often  makes  the  eye  and  the  cheek — alas,  this 
is  but  emblematic  of  what  it  does  upon  the  heart,  flushing 
it  with  hope,  and  suffusing  it  with  light,  when  the  wind- 
ing-sheet is  woven,  and  the  evening  shadows  are  falling. 


XX.]  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.  401 

But  this  disease,  so  insidious,  so  nattering,  so  fatal,  is 
the  exact  picture  of  spiritual  decline.  Indeed,  there  is  one 
point  of  difference ;  but  it  only  makes  the  moral  malady 
the  more  formidable  of  the  two.  It  may  be  hard  to  make 
the  consumptive  patient  see  his  danger — but  that  danger 
is  apparent  enough  to  others;  friends  and  neighbours, 
however  unsuspicious  at  first,  become  well  aware  of  the 
painful  truth  as  disease  is  more  confirmed.  But  where 
there  is  spiritual  decline,  it  may  be  unsuspected  to  the  last. 
Ministers  and  kinsmen  may  perceive  no  difference  in  the 
man — equally  regular  in  the  public  duties  of  religion; 
equally  large  in  his  charities;  equally  honourable  in  his 
dealings ;  equally  pure  in  his  morals.  This  was  the  case, 
as  we  showed  you,  with  the  Ephesian  Church.  They  were 
the  same  in  their  patience,  in  their  labour,  in  their  works, 
and  nevertheless  they  had  left  their  first  love.  They  had 
ceased  to  "run  well."  The  fatal  symptoms  may  be  all 
internal ;  and  because  they  are  not  such  as  to  draw  obser- 
vation, there  will  be  no  warning  given  by  others ;  and  the 
sick  man,  not  examining  himself,  and  not  finding  that  his 
religious  friends  suppose  his  health  on  the  decline,  will  be 
all  the  more  likely  to  feel  persuaded  of  his  safety,  and  to 
learn  his  disease,  alas !  only  from  his  death. 

"  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear."     We  would 

not  willingly,  at  any  time — more  especially  when  leaving, 

as  we  now  do,  for  the  few  next  weeks,  our  accustomed 

place — do  that  which  is  spoken  of  in  the  Prophet,  "  make 

the  heart  of  the  righteous  sad  whom  God  hath  not  made 

sad."     But  in  an   age  of  great  religious  profession,  and 

when  moreover  we  have  not  the  fires  of  persecution  to 

furnish  tests  of  the  strength  and  fervency  of  our  love,  we 
26 


402  SPIRITUAL  DECLINE. 

ought  to  take  frequent  opportunities  of  setting  before  you 
the  fearful  probability,  that  many  are  backsliders  who  are 
thought  to  be  steadfast,  and  that  many  have  let  go  the 
spirit,  who  still  retain  all  the  form  of  devotion.  See  to  it, 
men  and  women,  whether  or  not  there  be  amongst  you 
this  spiritual  canker.  Ye  may  find  out,  by  the  symptoms 
which  we  laboured  to  exhibit,  whether  or  not  you  are  in 
any  measure  ceasing  to  "  run  well."  Ye  must  be  honest 
and  bold  with  yourselves  ;  the  case  is  not  one  for  trifling, 
and  you  are  not  to  shrink  from  proving  yourselves  dis- 
eased. Go  down  into  your  hearts;  try  the  pulse  there; 
use  the  thermometer  there;  stay  not  upon  the  surface 
where  a  thousand  things  may  preserve  the  appearance  of 
animation,  and  induce  what  will  pass  for  the  glow  of  life 
and  health ;  but  descend  into  yourselves,  search  into  your- 
selves, and  be  content  with  no  evidence  but  that  of  an 
increasing  love  of  God,  and  an  increasing  hatred  of  sin. 

And  if  the  freshness  have  gone  out  of  your  love,  and 
you  detect  the  degeneracy;  if  the  heat  have  diminished, 
and  you  ascertain  the  lukewarmness ;  if  the  lungs  are 
affected,  and  you  prove  the  unsoundness — it  is  not  despair, 
but  effort,  which  we  preach  to  you ;  we  do  not  leave  you 
for  a  season,  bidding  you  reckon  all  lost,  but  bidding  you 
strive  that  all  may  be  recovered — for  even  to  the  Laodi- 
ceans,  the  Laodiceans  of  whom  He  had  spoken  in  terms  of 
absolute  loathing,  our  blessed  Redeemer  could  say,  "I 
counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me  gold  tried  in  the  fire,  that  thou 
mayest  be  rich ;  and  white  raiment,  that  thou  mayest  be 
clothed ;  and  anoint  thine  eyes  with  eyesalve,  that  thou 
mayest  see." 


STANFORD  &.  DELISSER'S 

THEOLOGICAL    PUBLICATIONS. 


i. 

SERMONS :  BY  THE  REV.  HENRY  MELVILLE.      ED- 

ited  by  the  Rev.  Charles  P.  M'llvaine,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  the  Prot.  Epis. 
Church  in  the  Diocese  of  Ohio.  Two  large  octavo  volumes.  Tenth  Thou 
sand.     $3.50. 

"  Melville  is  no  ordinary  man,  he  produces  no  ordinary  influence.  Possessing  a  bril 
liant  imagination,  having  groat  command  of  words,  and  being  full  of  the  Are  of  genius, 
he  sways  the  hearts  of  crowded  congregations  who  listen  to  the  living  voice,  and  of 
multitudes  who  peruse  the  productions  of  his  glowing  pen.  It  is  impossible  to  read 
Melville's  Sermons  and  not  be  gratified,  and  what  is  better,  improved." — Chrn.  Miscel. 

"  Heartily  do  we  admire  the  breathing  words,  the  bold  figures,  the  picturesque  im- 
ages, the  forcible  reasonings,  the  rapid,  vivid,  fervid  perorations  of  these  discourses." — 
Brithh  Critic. 

II. 

SERMONS:    BY    THE    REV.   HENRY    E.    MANNING, 

Archdeacon  of  Chichester.    Three  large  octavo  volumes.     $3.75. 

"Apart  from  a  few  expressions,  which  have  to  do  with  his  own  church  organization, 
they  are  such  as  all  Christians,  of  whatever  persuasion,  would  be  well  satisfied  to  read; 
and  not  only  satisfied,  but  edified." — Intelligencer. 

"  .Manning  possesses  a  mind  of  peculiar  richness  and  vigor,  clothed  upon  with  all  the 
glorious  truths  of  our  holy  religion.  He  delineates  most  beautifully  the  law  of  the 
spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus ;  and  is  always  most  eloquent  when  nearest  to  the  Cross.  His 
style,  peculiarly  his  own,  cannot  be  commended  to  any  divine ;  for,  apart  from  its  many 
objectionable  features,  it  could  not  be  successfully  imitated;  but  the  expository  char- 
acter of  his  sermons  is  of  the  first  order;  and  here  Manning  may  be  studied  with  tho 
greatest  advantage.  His  sermons  are  from  his  text,  made  up  of  its  elements,  not  intro- 
ducing his  subject,  but  suggesting  and  containing  it.  Therefore  they  are  always  a 
faithful  exposition  of  the  text.  The  present  edition  of  his  sermons  eannot  fail  to  havo 
a  wide  and  justly  deserved  circulation." — Spectator. 

III. 

PLAIN  SERMONS  FOR    SERVANTS.    BY  REV.  T.  T. 

Castleman,  Rector  of  Trinity  Church,  Staunton,  Va.,  and  other  Ministers 
of  the  Episcopal  Church.  Written  and  published  by  request  of  the  Rt. 
Rev.  William  Meade,  D.  D.,  and  the  Convocation  of  Central  Virginia.  1 
vol.  $l'2mo.     $1.00. 

IV. 
SERMONS :  BY  SAMUEL  HORSLEY,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  F.  A. 

S.,  late  Lord  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph.     1  vol.  8vo."    $1.50. 


Stanford  &  Delisser's  Publications. 


V. 
TEN  SERMONS,  WITH  A  PREFATORY  LETTER,  AD- 

dressed  to  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  M'llvaine,  by  Rev.  George  Townshend 
Fox,  M.  A.,  of  Durham.     1  vol.  8vo.     $1.00. 

VI. 
SERMONS  AND  LIFE   OF  REV.  WILLIAM  JACKSON, 

late  Rector  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Louisville,  Ky.     1  vol.  8vo.     $1.25. 

VII. 
SERMONS  OF  THE  RT.  REV.  JOHN  HENRY  HOBART, 

D.  D.,  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  with  a  Memoir  of  his  Life  by  the  Rev.  William  Berrian,  D.  D.,  Rec- 
tor of  Trinity  Church,  New  York.     8  vols.  8vo.     $4.50. 

vni. 
SERMONS,  CHIEFLY  PRACTICAL,  BY  THE  REV.  J.  W. 

Cunningham,  A.  M.,  Vicar  of  Harrow.     1  vol.  8vo.     $1.25. 

IX. 
RAIN     SERMONS,     BY    CONTRIBUTORS     TO     THE 

"  Tracts  for  the  Times."     2  vols.  12mo.     $1.50. 

X. 
SERMONS  :  BY  THE  LATE  REV.  C.  R.  DUFFLE,  A.  M., 

Rector  of  St.  Thomas's  Church,  New  York,  with  a  Memoir  of  the 
Author.     2  vols.  8vo.     $3.00. 

XL 

SERMONS :  BY  BENJAMIN  MOORE,  D.  D.,  LATE  BISH- 

op  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  State  of  New  York.  2  vols. 
8vo.     $2.00. 

XII. 

ON  THE  DUTIES  OF  DALLY  LIFE.      BY  REV.  F.  E. 

Paget.     12mo.     $1.00. 

XIII. 
VILLAGE  SERMONS  ON  THE  CHIEF  ARTICLES   OF 

Faith,  &c.,on  the  Christian  Character,  and  on  some  of  the  Relative  Duties; 
to  which  is  added,  Pastoral  Advice  to  Young  Men,  particularly  those  in 
country  Villages.  In  Seven  Sermons.  By  the  Rev.  Edward  Berens,  M.  A. 
12mo.     75  cents. 

XIV. 

OLD  TRUTHS  AND  NEW  ERRORS.  FOUR  SERMONS 

by  the  Rev.  C.  M.  Butler,  D.  D.,  Rector  of  Trinity  Church,  Washington, 
D.  C.     16mo.     50  cents. 


Stanford  &  Delisser's  Publications. 


REV.  C.  B.  TAYLER'S  POPULAR  WORKS. 

10  Vols.,  Uniform  Style,  75  cents  each  vol.,  cloth  ;  paper,  50  cents. 


MARK  WILTON,  THE  MERCHANT'S  CLERK. 

Mr.  Tayler  has  written  many  admirable  works,  but  none  better  calculated  to  do  good 
than  the  one  before  us.  In  the  character  of  Mark  Wilton  we  behold  a  young  man  of 
weak  moral  principle,  easily  seduced  into  temptation  and  sin :  his  whole  life  presenting 
varying  changes  from  evil  to  good,  from  sin  to  penitence  ;  and  in  the  character  pf  his 
fellow-clerk,  one  firm  in  Christian  principle,  and  proof  against  the  fascinating  allure- 
ments and  wholesale  temptations  of  the  world.  It  should  be  read  by  every  clerk  in 
our  gieat  cities, 

SCENES  IN  A  CLERGYMAN'S  LIFE. 

The  reputation  of  this  work  has  been  so  firmly  established,  that  it  has  run  through 
many  editions  both  in  England  and  America. 

LADY  MARY ;  OR,  NOT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

The  design  of  this  work  is  to  delineate  religious  character  as  presented  in  the  upper 
walks  of  life  in  England. 

MARGARET ;  OR,  THE  PEARL. 

"The  name  of  Margaret  has  two  meanings:  in  Greek,  it  is  a  pearl;  in  French  it  is 
the  most  modest  and  the  most  common  of  flowers,  the  daisy,  springing  up  wherever  a 
little  patch  of  greensward  refreshes  the  gaze  with  its  soft  and  Deautiful  color.  In  my 
simple  story  of '  Margaret,'  the  reader  may  find  me  employing  my  .eisure  with  this 
flower,  endeavoring  at  the  same  time  to  keep  before  them  and  myself,  the  Pearl  of 
great  price,  after  whom  I  have  purposely  named  my  Margaret." — Extract  from  Preface. 

THANKFULNESS :  A  NARRATIVE  COMPRISING  PAS- 

sages  from  the  Diary  of  the  Rev.  Allan  Temple. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  v>  ork  of  Action,  conveying  religious  lessons.  The  pas- 
sages in  the  life  of  the  young  clergyman  present  beautiful  pictures  of  the  trials  and  re- 
wards of  ministerial  labors,  while  there  is  sufficient  narrative  interest  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  the  reader. 

EARNESTNESS;   OR,  INCIDENTS  IN  THE  LIFE   OF 

an  English  Bishop. 

This  work,  although  intended  as  a  sequel  to  "  Thankfulness,"  has  its  distinctive 
character.  It  is  a  beautiful  exhibition  of  the  Episcopal  character,  with  some  of  its  at- 
tending difficulties  in  the  English  Church. 

ANGELS'  SONG. 

"  Excellent  and  admirable  as  are  the  previous  volumes  of  Mr.  Tayler,  this  by  many 
will  be  preferred,  it  being  more  domestic  in  its  teaching  and  in  the  incidents  which 
form  its  charm  and  attraction.  It  is  most  beautifully  written,  and  the  narrative  or  fam- 
ily history  one  that  cannot  fail  to  make  a  deep  impression  upon  the  reader. 

RECORDS  OF  A  GOOD  MAN'S  LIFE. 

"  This  is  indeed  a  '  golden  book,'  one  that  cannot  be  read  without  as  much  profit  as 
pleasure  by  all." — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

"A  volume  endeared  to  many  a  heart  by  a  thousand  charms  of  style,  sentiment, 
and  pious  meditation." — Prot.  Churchman. 

TRUTH  ;  OR,  PERSIS  CLARETON.    A  NARRATIVE  OF 

Church  History  in  the  17th  Century. 

LEGENDS  AND  RECORDS,  CHIEFLY  HISTORICAL. 


Stanford  &  Delisser's  Publications. 


FAMILY  AND  PRIVATE  DEVOTIONS. 


THE  DEVOTIONS  OF  BISHOP  ANDREWS,  TRANSLA- 

ted  from  the  Greek,  and  arranged  anew.     50  cents. 

The  forms  of  devotions  in  this  work  not  being  fully  drawn  out,  but  given  as  heads 
•of  thought,  and  as  it  were,  a  Brief  of  Prayer,  are  singularly  suggestive  in  their  na- 
ture, and  thereby  best  adapted  for  general  use,  and  to  most  variety  of  cases.  Their  lan- 
guage being  principally  drawn  from  Scripture,  is  common  and  acceptable  to  all,  and  at 
the  same  time,  deep,  rich,  and  universal,  and  suitable  to  all  degrees  of  spiritual  at- 
tainment. 

FAMILY  AND  PRIVATE  PRAYERS.      BY  THE  REV. 

Win.  Berrian,  D.  D.     Large  type.     $1.00. 

DEVOTIONS  FOR  THE  SICK  ROOM  AND  FOR  TIMES 

of  Trouble.     Compiled  from  Ancient  Liturgies  and  the  Writings  of  Holy 
Men.     By  the  Rev.  WiUiam  Berrian,  D.  D.     50  cents. 

ENTER  INTO  THY  CLOSET;   OR,  THE  CHRISTIAN'S 

Daily  Companion.     Consisting  of  Prayers  and  Offices  of  Devotion,  adapted 
to  every  State  and  Condition  of  Life,  &c.    By  Wm.  Berrian,  D.  D.    50  cts. 

THE  CLERGYMAN'S  COMPANION.    BY  JOHN  HENRY 

Hobart,  D.  D.,  late  Bishop  of  the  Church  of  N.  Y.     Muslin,  75  cents. 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

TREATISE  ON  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER,  DESIGNED  AS  A 

Guide  and  Companion  to  the  Holy  Communion.  By  the  Rev.  E.  Bicker- 
steth.     Edited  by  the  Rev.  Lewis  P.  W.  Balch.     75  cents. 

THE  DEVOUT  COMMUNICANT,  BEING  THOSE  PARTS 

of  a  Treatise  on  the  Lord's  Supper  which  are  suited  to  assist  the  Devo- 
tions of  the  Communicant.     By  the  Rev.  E.  Bickersteth.     38  cents. 

COMMUNICANT'S  MANUAL :  CONTAINING  THE  OR- 

der  for  the  Administration  of  the  Holy  Communion.  By  Bishop  Hobart. 
To  which  are  added  appropriate  Selections  from  the  Works  of  Bishops 
Tayler,  Beveridge,  &c.     25  cents. 

AN  ORDER  OF  FAMILY  PRAYER  FOR  EVERY  DAY 

in  the  week.     By  Bishop  Wainwright.     75  cents. 

A  MANUAL   OF  DEVOTIONS  FOR  CONFIRMATION 

and  First  Communion.     By  the  author  of  "  Steps  to  the  Altar."     31  cents. 


fe 
^ 


